Static on the Line

The radio crackled, tinny, dry,

a dial I turned beneath a vacant sky.

Then a note, a rhythm, something known,

a phantom voice that chilled me to the bone.

It almost was, that cadence, that low hum,

before it broke, before it became numb.

Just fuzz and hiss where feeling used to bloom,

leaving a vacant space inside this room.

I chase the frequency, the lost refrain,

but find no purchase, just the static's reign.

A signal lost, a connection frayed and done,

leaving only silence where there had been one.