these tips
shunted over wires
misdirected, these prints
miss textures
subtle, presented in atmospheres
not forgotten
denied, if not forsaken
soothing
natural
familiar

telling corners
of her smile, frown, question, joy, loss
these fingers reach
for that seen
grasp
for the things to be heard
stroke
to comprehend scents that read like novels

playing horseshoes
in the powdery snow
enjoying sentiment
and not

a clue

as to the results

© Tom Watters 2/4/09