Miles separate a one-on-one.
We converse
with finger tips, tap
letters, make sentences,
share cyberspace hugs.
I hit send. Wait.
My phone dings. Her text
arrives, accompanied
by teddy bear icons,
smiley faces and a thank
you for praise sent.
I feel her ten-year-old
smile, visualize scrunched
up shoulders as she clasps
hands between her knees.
My fingers tap out another
word bouquet. Within moments
a "see you on Friday night,
Gramma," message arrives,
sunshine on a cloudy day.
Toni Louise Diol
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