I wrote your name on an envelope
That closed and sealed with my mark
Long, long, short, two dots and two curves
A stamp that became postmarked.
I wondered there how long it would take
To find its way into your hands,
Would it arrive bent, curled?
Stained from a leak in a roller?
I wondered how high it would fly
Inside the bowels of an airplane
How cold those bowels would become
In spite the warmth so inscribed.
I hoped my meaning would be understood,
That my script legible,
And that each word that you would read
Would be read just as I had spoke.
And most of all, I wondered if
The return address would be saved,
So that your unique letter
Would be sealed
With a stamp that became postmarked.
Tag: dot
Maps (day 2285)
Patterns have become my edges
That take me past zones
And clearly defined counties
Hemmed in with bold lines
That stretch across pastels
And littered with dots
Describing populations
Along zig zagging lines
Connecting the dots
Neatly folded into a rectangular paper.
Memories on the Wall (day 1624)
Smooth charcoal edges coated a tingling memory
That laid beside a warm body glowing.
It took foreign dust on antique chairs
And unraveled a long robe onto a cement floor
With cold toes and blue lips.
And at once, the abrupt end of this ceremony,
Captured by a small jagged and a little dot,
Returned to the inanimate wall
Struggling to stay awake.
Zero and One (day 1434)
I am a number that’s been picked and then released,
Signed and dotted twice and
Sealed strong with our family crest.
This is destiny in the hands of an entrepreneur,
Folding up the corners and
Wrapping tight the family chest.
Watching lights twinkle in a glimmer of urbanized hope,
Shaking off flood water and
Minding the high level mark.
Without a standard ruling system we are all zeros and ones;
Counting guides and shutting eyes
And a program we just press run.