Twenty years ago, I left America
for a job for the first time,
The Internet was new.
Email, sure, but not all had it.
No Skype. No Facebook.
Calls costly, so ties strained.
Twelve years abroad, so much change.
Before that, it had been the 70s—
four weeks in England with nothing
but postcards and letters to friends.
Mom got one call.
At 16 it seemed an age.
So later, having email, a gift.
Now gone again, though “talk” each day
With son, or mother, or friends.
Thanks to technology,
the distance means little.
A double-edged sword.
How much time “catching up”?
How many kitties/bunnies/puppies
Do I need to see?
Today, scroll my wall or write a poem?
I almost chose the wall.
****
I probably should have chosen the wall! This is puerile, but hey, I am bound and determined to write one a day!
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