Ghosts

15

May 10, 2016, Prescott

My thoughts go to a place called Xanga.

I’ve been informed that my subscription is over.

The ghost pieces that have built up there,

are to be the stuff of archives.

Bittersweet.

as that was a place I could reach out,

a place where I could learn to accept love from strangers,

a place where I could banter with snarky people,

and a place where I could deal with bullies and trolls.

My imagination ran free,

for the first time in a long while.

Many friendships were made,

many of them still thrive,

in real time.

Some were lost,

in the wake of culture wars,

misunderstandings,

upended relationships.

The wisps of thoughts,

long ago communicated,

as my truest love faded from life,

one hour, one day, one year at a time.

My cyberfriends joined our son,

in holding my hand,

keeping my mind intact,

helping my heart to heal.

As I write,

the cool presence of her spirit,

wafts over my hands,

reassuring.