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.