by Sharon Scholl
the people in my address book
that vanished in the trackless waste
of silence?
So vivid in my memory, preserved
exactly as we parted, untouched
by time’s disasters.
Not even the obituaries, the police
dockets trace their lost existence,
not my friends’ dim recollections.
They must be hidden somewhere
in an electronic thicket, protected
by secret codes and complex passwords.
It troubles me — the way we limp
from life, drift away like fallen leaves
floating helplessly in a sullen tide.
It’s the Schrodinger’s cat dilemma —
are they alive or dead? Except I’m left
without a box to open.
***
Sharon Scholl is a retired college teacher who convenes a poetry critique group and maintains a website (freeprintmusic.com) of original music and poetry for small, liberal churches. Her poetry chapbooks, Seasons, Remains, Evensong, are available via Amazon Books. Her poems are current in Third Wednesday and The Bluebird Word.
Comments