Date in winter, a

The Phone CallTheir tombstones are as commonas pavement slabs up town,so how could I be that solemnseeing another put down?Time too winnows me thinand shakes me away ? yes every atomflies through the sieve of my skin ?skin which will stretch to oblivion.Ah, but surprise! I was flesh and boneand why I lived ? you never said,yet your voice (like over the phone)is this incantation to raise the dead.