He would think of her
and be tempted,
tempted to pick up the mobile
from his ungovernable desk.

Navigating the backlit screens
he would find her name
and press to see her photo
that dialled the number,

and then that wait
for the ringing tone, that
wait while her phone rang
. . . and with a connection

she would say Hello you
And he’d know from
her voice if the time was
right or wrong;

she was busy,
preoccupied or
(and always wonderful
this) happy to hear him . . .

. . . and he would falter.
He really had nothing
to say he could say, so
much to say that he couldn’t,

and so he would witter:
chatter or babble pointlessly
or at unnecessary length.
So the dictionary said.

Such a sad business this.
Better by far to stick
to a letter than witter,
than witter, than witter.