for a connection

daunted by

the empty expanse

of a book

i'm supposed to fill

i realize

that i've become

a creature

of the computer

addicted to sending off

bits and pieces

of my small

inspirations

knowing there's

a human heart

waiting somewhere

to receive them

before i wrote

only for me

thoughts committed

only to myself

words arranged

like so much

of my accumulated

treasured junk

in a way

pleasing only

to my lonely eyes

meaningful only

to my solitary heart

remembered images

feelings pushed down

dredged up

words playfully

put down on paper

a childish amusement

in love

with the shapes

crafted by

my own hand

pretty flamboyant

letters boldly

scribbled

across the page

pledged to

staying the same

forever

witnesses to

my having been

but now this

creature i've become

has thrown over

her own pretty hand

in favor of

thoughts and words

dancing merrily

across a screen

blurted out

for someone else

her own posterity

forgotten

sacrificed gladly

for a connection...

* * * * * * *

This was inspired by a

lovely blank journal I

received as a birthday gift

several years ago. I confess

that it's as empty as the day

I received it.