Calling 10 — Summary

In “Calling 10,” the speaker feels like an arrow being fitted to a bow. The spine curves, the voice tightens like a bowstring, and the body waits for a moment before release—already trembling, already anticipating where it will be sent. The “you” in the poem is the archer: someone whose arm creates the tension, whose aim makes the speaker nearly swoon. There is an intimate, almost erotic charge in that mixture of surrender and alertness. The speaker is not exactly passive; there is a strange willingness in being aimed, a readiness that feels like both excitement and danger. The final lines sharpen this feeling, as the speaker stays awake to a “hissing twisting knifewedge wind,” the harsh, cutting air of flight. The mood is suspended and electric—one body waiting to be thrown into something intense, thrilled by the force that directs it, even if the destination is unknown.