When the second line rings, Dad
and all his brothers and sisters know
to leave the room, go outside to play,
go visit a friend’s house, just get out
because the conversation soon to be had
is for only two parties to hear.

It’s the seventies after Roe v. Wade
and my grandmother has chosen her side–
to stand for the unborn. She embraces
a calling to help young women in trouble,
guiding toward resources for both mother and child.
Thus the birth of the Right to Life of Owensboro, Kentucky.

For decades, she would devote her life to the cause.
Those who knew her always spoke of the civility
and open-mindedness she approached the topic with,
even against those who staunchly stood opposed.
Her home stayed full of children from babysitting
for a multitude of families needing a hand.

And while the contents of those telephonal conversations–
the names and numbers–would all stay private,
the outcomes occasionally echoed in public spaces.
You’re Virgina Corley? a woman excitedly realizes.
Please let me introduce you to my daughter
who you saved.

Half a century later, the world rolls almost unrecognizable
and I’m just a man standing within a magnanimous between;
a rich and beautiful legacy upheld by all my family behind me
and before me, deeply cherished friends and a literary community
all fiercely loyal to the rights of women, among others.
What role do I serve in the progression of the nation?

To love, is my simple answer, and to share these stories
showing how, I believe, a truly pro-life voice should sound,
reminding us that the right to choose doesn’t always mean
any given choice is right in any given moment.
In this, I hope to show support for those I love
while carrying on my grandmother’s legacy of honoring life.