W E D N E S D A Y
i finger the keyboard
with a sudden yearning
then type in his name
and hit the return key
just as i'm thankful
his isn't jones or smith
i'm relieved there are only
a few links herewith
after some that aren't him
i come to a link
his place of employment?
i stare and I blink
it's a sub-page that's promising
a pic of his team
i could see what he looks like--
no longer a dream
oh my God! i realize
it's the motherload i've hit
haven't seen him in 30 years
but with one easy click...
am i ready to destroy
the memory of the boy
yellow tank top, long and lean
in his tight faded jeans?
will it be quite the same
to imagine our past
if his sweet lips are under
a graying mustache?
has his slender waist
and those cute little freckles
given way to a belly
and weather-worn wrinkles?
and will seeing him now
just remind me that i'm
not slender and sexy
but well past my prime?
i slowly remove
my hand from my mouse
i log off the laptop
i lock up the house
i head to the hallway
i turn out the light
murder of memories
isn't in me tonight
as my head hits the pillow
i rest easily
my last name's been changed
so he can't google me
2 comments:
No, but with a little investigative work he can find out your married name, and then...
(But you wouldn't know about that, would you? Heh, heh.)
John
And then...nothing. There aren't any pics of me online...only one poem I wrote that's on someone else's web site.
Post a Comment