QUERTY

Look familiar? That begins the first line of any
typewriter of any poet and I’ve forgotten what it’s
really called as it is connected to my familiar ‘Mac’
which stands in its solitary splendor, containing all
that boggles the mind.

This morning, a bit earlier, I had pulled out a book
of poetry by Billy Collins, pored over its gathered
contents and found nothing that suits my mood.

So, reluctantly, I closed the book, looked at my
empty monitor, and pushed the book of poetry by
Billy Collins up to the edge of this typing thing that
I cannot remember the name of.

I have this habit of lining things up neatly before
leaving them, like going back to bed, or getting up
and really starting the day.

With wonder and amazement, the width of the book
lined its five and five-eights inches precisely up to
“apple”, “option” and “control”, space, and on to the
next set of three things, like arrows, to push down.

What a sense of order! All’s well with the world for
this lovely moment. It’s obvious to me that somehow
Billy Collins managed to give me something to share.

with love …
Mom/Mimi/Toni/Antoinette

It's called a keyboard!

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