Don Bauder 7:49 p.m., May 22
How effortless life’s become
when with the click of a cyber button
we just as easily add friends as delete them,
when we block correspondence rather than communicate,
when we’ve the excuse of not having been in range of satellite service
or, “It must have gone to Spam”. No guilt or shame associated with such facelessness.
Yet, we are a soft and precious
lot easily bruised, licking old wounds
having nothing at all to do with others, consumed
with nursing presumed offenses assumed consciously and cruelly
committed by all the wrong confidants, with suffering frustrated muddled romances
confounded by mindless meddlers and further by a web of unnecessary misunderstandings?
Lend me a kiss, just one sweet
brush of your succulent lips and the madness
will revert to gladness. Extend to me the palm of your hand
so that I may place it submissively on my vulnerable cheek and slide
it down my small frail neck to hold it over my pounding heart. Step towards me, just one small
step and I will leap into your arms for the truth that is love cannot be confined to text typed in a box.