Storied keys feel left for dead.
Typewriter waits for fingertip tread--
mutely gathering dust instead.
Poet's Notes: I applaud any novelist who has turned out a story on a typewriter without the benefit of cut and paste, find and replace, delete and spell check, to name a few of the functions a computer offers to a writer's advantage.
Editor’s Note: Taken literally, the poem is a poignant little story about a personified typewriter--cute, but nothing special or really worth publishing. However, taken metaphorically, the typewriter becomes a symbol for all the things and people left behind by the relentless advance of technology. I find myself deeply moved by this poem.
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