There’s a sign of hope,

It reads as if the string is still attached somehow

To the tin can in the other’s hand.

I respond, sending a vibration

Along the line.

Immediately, the line drops slackly to the floor.

Surely, if there was a connection,

It wouldn’t be possible for the sign to disappear?

Well, now I just feel foolish,

All over again.

When I built the bridge,

I knew I was over-extended, but

Then, it seemed not to matter if

They reached out from the other shore,

Or not. How I wish I was still so carefree,

Or so ignorant.