All These Years Later
A poet I first met
on MySpace – the old
MySpace, before it was
bought and wrecked –
starts a facebook group
for the old MySpace poets.
A bright inspiration!
We swarm to reunion.
‘Who else is still around?’
we ask each other, somewhere
in the middle of the first
glad greetings. And,
‘Who have we lost?’
The list of the dead begins.
And grows. And grows.
I myself add two dear names,
later remember a third.
They were our most vibrant!
Many who join, I don’t even
recognise, never got to know.
In its heyday, MySpace
was crawling with poets
proliferating: with what joy
we kept finding each other.
I’m quiet in the new group.
‘I can’t help it,’ I say
to myself only –
‘I am falling through space.’
(Pun inapplicable.)
You can’t go home again.
Poetic Asides prompt, Day 6: A Change and/or Don't Change poem. I'm not quite sure if this is either or both. A change, and then another change to try and correct the first....
This is both. This is outstanding.
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