Mark Maxey's poem is about a phone call between two people who have been out of touch. The other person calls it "long time coming," as if the two of them had been walking toward each other along a path. The speaker sees it differently: for them it was an intersection, a place where two separate routes happen to cross.
The speaker has hoped for this conversation, and they can tell the other person cares. Still, both of them are awkward, and the poem suggests their lives run alongside each other without quite meeting. The image of unspoken feelings "spilling" over a plate that nobody looks at captures how much is left unsaid.
The mood is quiet, hesitant, and cautiously hopeful. The speaker doesn't claim the call fixed anything. They settle for something smaller: it was nice to talk, healing may or may not follow, and at least they had the chance.