travelers

a dozen keychains dangle
in my cubicle, carried back
from the various places
my coworkers have been

looking at them, i realize
they were visitors too
made in china and waiting
to hitch a ride to me

miscommunications

we’ve always spoken
in “broken” languages

cobbling bits and pieces
from here and there

trying to build
understanding

that may never
be perfect

but might yet
be whole

firefox is on the fritz
two windows open
that one for reading
this one for writing

that one
keeps on
bumping me
back to
this one

the words
do not fade
into the silence
that follows
i hear them still
echoing within

i am more
than them

they are more
than me

the words come to mind
and the fingers fly
filling the screen
all a little too
quickly
confidently
carelessly