On Hold

Held remotely
says the message on your screen
when I interrupt our call to take another.

Talking or holding: you can’t do both,
even in a world whose far reaches
no longer exceed our grasp.

On the other side of the ocean, I read Resume.
When we do, you tell me laughing
you almost miss being held.

Five hours apart, yet we share a single present,
speaking, listening, from one infinitesimal
moment to the next: we hold.

See Rachel’s photographic response, “Hope and Anchor.”