190 – Lifelines

Staring
At the tiny
Glass window
In your hand,
Waiting.

Electronic
Waves of aether
Wash lazily
Over the polished
Surface.

You keep
Watching them,
Waiting for
The proverbial bottle
To appear
Among the
Continuous stream
Of digital
Floatsam and jetsam.

Short letters
From distant lands.
Tiny bits of warmth
And intimacy,
Wrapped inside
Short messages
Of deadly serious
Playfulness.

Some days
The waves are high
And full of trash.

Others
Hours can turn
To days
Waiting in
A dead calm.

But in the end,
They are always there,
Those tiny bits
Of distant friendship.

Those thin
And fragile
Lifelines.

Making it
Worthwhile
To stay the course
And sail
Into the storm.

• • •

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