Elegy for Telephone Wires
When I was old enough to be left home alone
but not yet old enough to enjoy the solitude, I
would call my grandmother on the telephone
and imagine the signal playing along those wires
between us, connecting us like a ship tethered
to its sunken anchor. But I can no longer trace
the journey of my call as it travels into space,
bouncing off satellites and dancing through
the atmosphere as if no one is looking. Now,
our faces appear imprisoned like ghosts conjured
from some interstitial place: liminal, unmoored,
adrift on the eternal sea and facing time itself.
Matthew Schultz teaches creative writing at Vassar College. His recent work appears in Southchild, Warning Lines, and Glitchwords.