-niece's 7th year advancement-

she has grown up with

cellular phones and laptop computers.

It’s fun to see her reaction

to an old, manual Royal typewriter

and heavy, awkward Bell rotary telephone.

her instinct is to laugh at such

cumbersome machinery.

then laughter slips to a curious smile

as she considers the items sitting on the table.

she glances in my direction, one eyebrow lifting

as if to ask: “who are these things from another planet”?

she instinctively presses the Royal's bar, advancing
the tactile mechanism to its inevitable ping, which

broadens her smile.

the big telephone is hooked-up.

she is shown how to dial her mother’s cell,

index finger in the hole, it turns and then

her finger spins back effortlessly for a moment's rest.
these rest stops are welcomed.
she barely has enough strength to complete the journey.

listening into the massive receiver,
(both hands are necessary)
It’s as if she is hearing her mother’s voice

for the first time, smiling more broadly now.

she then comes to type a message to her father,

aggressively pressing the Royal's ivory-colored keys,
(she won't tolerate interruptions)

using the broad underbelly of her index finger,
stopping to carefully inspect each inked letter
she types upon the page.

tap...tap...tap...tap...tap...tap...tap..

“w ere  aire  yo u”