under water

you hear the phone ring
as you lie
as best can in your small tub,
the hot water
emptied into the basin
where your naked body
rests, bent knees, and
neck against a washcloth.
a stack of books
and magazines, you won't
get to nearby. teetering
on falling in.
but the phone downstairs
keeps ringing. is death
calling. is trouble on
the other end. your son,
a far away love, a needy
and forgotten friend?
or someone selling windows?
you let it ring, and ring.
you need to stay here a little
while longer.
in the quiet, in the silence
of water and steam,
that's most important now.