Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Poked

A second poem inspired by Facebook.


Poked

I’ve never been poked before,
and didn’t even know it was possible to do that,
wasn’t aware of that special
poking place down there near the bottom.
But now I do since you
cared enough to poke me.
I had been thinking about you,
looking at your page just last night.
How wonderful it was to wake up
to you poking me this morning.
I’m thinking about you now,
and your sweet poke,
as I walk about town.
People on the street smile at me.
They see the sparkle in my eye
and can tell I’ve been poked,
there’s just no hiding it.


True story: a month or so ago I was looking at the website for a publishing company that's run by a friend in Illinois. The next day Facebook informed me that she had poked me, and I was inspired to write this poem. After I emailed it to her she replied that I had actually poked her first several months ago and she had just taken a while to poke me back. I think I must have been playing around with features on Facebook when I first joined and came across the poke then and forgot about it.

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