Voices

I am at
My cup of
Tea in the cafe
Reading about the
Fourth crusade when
I hear that ineluctable
Sound of women’s voices
In a group gathering to attend
A weekly networking meeting and
The sound is like no other as it
Rises and falls symmetrically
No voice dominating but
Each voice sliding into
Place like shingles in
A roof each cedar
Shingle fitting a
Pattern none
Too loud or
Raucous
Making
A melody
All seeming
To talk at once
But subtlety is a
Woman’s
True
Choice
Of prerogative
Not changing her
Mind since she has
Made her decision the
Instant she sized up odds.
We are a million years training
To be hunter-gatherers and another
50,000 years developing a self
Awareness of ourselves and I
Hear the voices of women in
A group loud but not a
Cacophony all that
Time a constant,
The peg in the
Wall for our
Humanity
Hearing
The sound
Of women’s
Voices.