STRANGE THINGS…
Here they all are – arrayed before me
There was a time – yes, there was a time
When such things did not exist
But now with their – at’s and dots and coms
They are part of life
Taken-over they have – from the stamp-addressed
Here they all are – arrayed before me
In a special folder – set apart to hold
their strung-together-look
Their spaceless in-between
To take my communications across the ether-world
I stop – I stare – at their part in my life
These that once did not exist
All embraced – differently by me –
than the younger generation who have them
Embraced as ‘second nature’ interludes
like burps or pauses
Or as real as clothes they wear
Essential codes oft-dreamt-up to just be different
My eye scans old ones – now defunct?
Mailer daemon – may be their destiny or fate
As I reflect on the persons behind these syntax mates
– Old friends long since not seen
I wonder if I can reach them – all thirteen
And to my chagrin – none of these email addresses
Bring me warm greetings in return
