I snipped the wires away from the house,
rolled them back to the pole they came from
after a tree had downed them.
They were old telephone wires
useless, replaced by cables.
I remember when my phone used to ring
because someone was on the other line.
My grandmother punched in real jacks
for the phone company.
Ma Bell is sitting in a swamp somewhere
rotary dialing hexes on people like me.
They won't arrive, of course,
but I'll miss them anyway,
what with the thick air of texts and tweets.
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