Telephone Sunsets

by Dale Neibaur, 1975

There was a time
    in the gold-trimmed autumn hours of a year ago
When an accident-prone young man
    with a taste for adventure
    and A&W rootbeer
Walked straight into one
    of the most adventurous accidents
    he's ever had.
Her hair was a beautiful shade of light red
    (or so he said,
    though she insisted it tended more
    towards brown)
And the twinkle in her eyes promised laughter
    and friendship
    mixed with just a touch of mischief.
She was good at keeping promises,
    (much better than he, anyway)
And so he found the promise in her eyes fulfilled
    in long walks and longer talks;
    shared experiences
    and shared memories.

I remember
    one evening in particular
        when he called her on the phone
            to share the brilliant colors
                of an autumn sunset,
                    but somehow ended up talking
                long past the time
            the last brilliance had faded
        from the evening sky.
    I remember.
Do you?

It really hasn't changed so much, you know.
    The telephone lines are a little longer now
    And my sunsets happen a bit before yours
    But that's all.

Thought I'd call again
    Just to see
    If you were still watching.