by Laurie Esposito Harley

She calls me crying.
I ask why,
but she can only say
that she’s excited.
The tears dry,
and she doesn’t remember
ever shedding them.

I change the subject
to something she knows—
dinner, Christmas, Dad—
but she says
she can no longer hear me.
The phone is dropping
from her ear.

I say, “I love you”.
I say, “Goodbye.”
I hang up the phone
and cry.