So, we tap on weird little things called computers
to buy stuff we’ve never seen from people we’ll most
likely not meet until at least year 1, 459, 397, 682.
Kinda like in the days of butter artisans when Hilda,
Dot and Mary Katherine with their silver silk bustles
a-swishing, didst order from les grands catalogs.
Gold hair clips often. And mirrors made from melted sand
and the dust of wind-whipped chariots of uncorseted desire.
And seeds, oh yes — seeds whose children keep on singing.
My Open Link Tuesday share for this week of dVerse.