They're still here...
the telephone poles
those fading icons
of a faded century
that have zigzagged
our rural hilltop horizons
like Stations of the Cross
turning the occasional sunset
into a Calvary Tableau
But on the way out...
going the way of
the TV antenna
Will you miss...
those lines strung like
sagging musical staffs with
fat little ‘whole note’ sparrows
scored perhaps as an arrangement for
‘On the Sunny Side of the Street’...
with the occasional squirrel
bounding across the top
like the bouncing ball in a
community sing-along?
The telephone poles are next...
already there’s a
wireless phone
holstered
on your belt...
and mine...
Think about it:
we’re
now
our
own
telephone
poles
