Bio
Anthony loves the way words sound through silence. He is inspired by the nature of the world and the expression of art as humanity decrees to discover itself. He writes to express the overwhelming beauty of the natural world with the inspiring admiration of artistic creativity. He has recently been published in Jerry Jazz Musician, Shot Glass Journal, and CommuterLit.
Anthony Ward
The Last Phonebook
The last phonebook falls through the letterbox,
Collapsing to the floor, emaciated and fatigued.
I remember when its bulk had it abandoned on your step,
Only to be picked up and cradled like a newborn baby,
Now looking dated, but still timeless.
I search for my name
It's still there,
Though I don't recognise the number,
I search for all the people I once knew
Knowing I wont find them,
Recalling all those years ago
When I could look them up.
Each row a house on a street
Given a number to a name
As if set in stone.