It’s now the tenth time today. 
I managed to answer nine of the calls,
explaining each time in a slightly different way
that you have reached a different office.

One of the calls went to voicemail.
You left me your return phone number 
for the fourth time this afternoon.

I gave you the new phone number 
for your desired party twice so far,
because the first time I think
I rattled it off too quickly for you to keep up.
I slowed my pace when I heard the TV 
in the background and you echoing
the muffled voices coming from the set.

You’re calling again for the eleventh time, 
so I’ll pause this poem and answer again:
Good afternoon, sir, how may I help you?

You seemed reassured this time once I told you
I had taken a moment in between the phone ringing
to leave a detailed message for your intended party;
you made sure I had given them your phone number.
I gently reiterated that the new office has your contact info 
and you should be getting a call from them soon.
Hope you have a lovely rest of your day, sir.
You wished me the same, and I can’t help but smile a bit.

Not everyone might have taken as much care with you today,
but all it took was a bit of imagination on my part,
hearing the increased distress in your voice
as you were struggling to get your message across.

All it took was just a little extra patience this afternoon 
to help put your mind at ease and calm your spirit,
and I can’t help but smile as the phone sits quietly on my desk.