It's Me

“Hi, it’s me,” they always used to say—
No question who it was. Could talk an hour
About a friend’s love life and what movie
To rent. And liked the same movies most times.
They’d call from home to office, or office
To office, leaping toward the time when they’d
Be in the same room and could touch—hair, hand—
And not worry someone would overhear.
Now they call from house to house about
The kids, or visits, or the check, and when
She says, “Hi, it’s me,” he thinks, “Me? Who?
Am I supposed to recognize your voice?”