06 March 2007


I was driving home, listening to Jim Croce - I have a box set of his music - and it came to me on one of the songs that we no longer call people we miss or feel a need to connect with...we google them. I was guilty of that recently, after writing a poem about someone from my past, I googled her. I found out she's doing amazing things now. After googling, I emailed her. To tell her I was thinking of her, that she meant something to me, that I still think about her...and tonight, listening to Jim, I realized that I didn't truly try to get in touch with her, I simply electronically buzzed her.

Operator, oh could you help me place this call
You see the number on the matchbook is old and faded

A sort of chicken's way out, the way I see it now. I wish I had the courage to hear her voice, to connect in the most human way, the pauses, the awkward silence that may come with time...

Operator, oh could you help me place this call
'cause I can't read the number that you just gave me

There's something in my eye

You know it happens every time
I think about the love that I thought would save me

and I guess I just wish I were braver in this brave new world of google - brave enough to hear the smile in the silence and brave enough to admit that a silence with her is worth more to me than a safe email to a googled past.

Operator oh let's forget about this call
There's no one there I really wanted to talk to

Thank you for your time

Oh you've been so much more than kind

And you can keep the dime

Isn't that the way they say it goes

But let's forget all that

And give me the number if you can find it

So I can call just to tell them I'm fine and to show

I've overcome the blow

I've learned to take it well

I only wish my words could just convince myself

That it just wasn't real

But that's not the way it feels

I miss you, Ann.

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