I’ve typed half an email to you a dozen times, desperate as a maple reaching over a scenic byway. Do you remember when we used to communicate through the wind? I could hear your voice, your thoughts, just by how you exhaled through your nose during one of Mr. Slater’s lectures. We could be states apart, but I would still know; thoughts were leaves on autumnal breezes falling on the mossy forest floor. Heavy currents eroded our bridge, felled trees snapped our power lines, space debris brought down our satellites, and now you’re just ones and zeros — a silent amalgamation of pixels.
A Time We Were
Published
M. Espinosa 
I’m old enough to recall the pre-internet days of hand-writing letters, licking stamps and waiting weeks or months for a reply. Communication was so different then, so much more vital and personal. Technology has done a lot to bring the world together, but at the same time it seems to have separated us from one another even more as people become trapped in the cocoons of their phones, texting away. Even I’m shocked when I consider all the people I’ve known only as ” just ones and zeros — a silent amalgamation of pixels” (what a brilliant way of putting it). It’s startling and disconcerting. I miss the personal interactions of yesteryear, but even that’s a moot point for me (I’m deaf). This poem’s sense of longing and sadness is so wonderfully crafted, and I love your imagery (as always). Thanks for sharing your art with us. I’m really digging it. 🙂
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Thank you so much! That was exactly what I was trying to capture! Sometimes, the expedience of texting/emailing makes initiating the communication more difficult for me, and I’m not sure why. Something about the struggle between wanting to say something, while not feeling able to followthrough on it. Thank you for your ones and zeros. They made my day!
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Exquisite.
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Thank you so much!
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