The Silent Buzz

My phone, a black rectangle

of bad news, woke me up anyway.

Not with a song, or a sharp electronic chirp,

but with a single, accusing buzz

that said: Missed Meeting. Yesterday. 9:00 AM.

It had been there, I know it.

The alarm, set, a tiny clock icon

shining smugly on the screen.

But the phone, it seems, was on mute.

Or I was just that deep,

that far down in some dark, heavy dream

that even a tiny tremor

couldn't reach me.

Now the email sits there, waiting.

'Sorry for the confusion.'

'Reschedule at your earliest.'

'Opportunity has passed.'

Each word a tiny cut, a dull ache.

The chance, gone.

Not just the meeting, but the thread

I meant to pull, the small edge

I'd been working toward.

All lost in a silent tremor,

a whisper I didn't hear,

and the dark, deep sleep

that stole it all.