Today loneliness
trumps my flair for
solitude, and I ache
while checking e-mails.
Suddenly
a box appears
on the screen.
My daughter
wants to e-chat!
But I’ve
never chatted—
how do I make it work?
I start pushing
buttons.

(No. 60 in a series of responses to Han-shan’s Songs of Cold Mountain)

It’s odd, being single at my age. Full of all kinds of learnings, thanks to the insights of age. But there are those times like the one described here. Meanwhile, I am a slow adapter to technology. My daughter, like so many her age and younger, is a relatively early adapter. So, when her message showed up, I was delighted but clueless.

(Numeric reference to Han-shan’s poem reflects the order of presentation in Burton Watson’s translation, presented as Cold Mountain, Columbia University Press, 1970.)