Butt Call

"Who is this?" you asked. I answered
with a smile, delighted and at first surprised,
and then let down, the reason for the question
being that it was a mistake, a butt call,
unintentional but possibly (just hear me out)
some form of Providence? A gift?
I would have liked to talk some more,
catch up on what's been going on (it's been
too long, you know) but you were busy, had to go,
another time, perhaps, and then the silence
of a rainy Saturday returned. I guess I could
have called you back, but if you'd wanted
conversation, there it was, delivered on the
silver platter of a random push of somewhere
on your phone that corresponded in its
inner workings to my name, just one of many
contacts, but one (I'm pretty sure of this)
who most would love to chat today.
A mystery. An opportunity. A chance. An interruption
that was welcomed at my end, but sad to say,
was not reciprocated at the other. No need to
be embarrassed that the timing wasn't good.
It was good to hear your voice, at least.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2015