Susan Elizabeth Hale

Over the airwaves

Over the phone

Out of the foam

Venus rises

Poems travel at the speed of light

We cup our seashell ears to receive our birth moans

Midwife each other

Witness blazed trails

As spring flowers cut through the earth with their green blades

Resurrected Easter lilies open

The weaving of women in cyberspace

Star-linked

Tell stories of mother’s cherry pie in the freezer

Finally unthawed to be eaten

Éclairs dipped in chocolate

“Eat them now,” Mama advises,

“Before the sun gets too hot.”

Eat your own sweet heart

Pick your own ripe fruit

Knead the dough

Then turn up the heat

Set the table

Take your place at the feast of life

Set a place for your grandmothers

Hear their voices again

Ancestors, who even now as you sit waiting for the next call,

Alone in your little house,

Even now they weave a shawl for you

Embroidering your name in red silk thread as they hum

There is a cell phone that reaches that far

There is a line open always

In the dark

            Between dreams

            Between labor pains

            Between your hearts crimson rhythm

This is where your phone rings

Use your free minutes

Answer the call