Click Send

Attach file, Open directory

Select.

Done.

"Dad, here is the file.

"Germans on the defensive.

"Russian Snow troops break through.

"Not much fun but here it is."

The "in progress" blue-bar lurches across my screen

as the bits and bytes make their travels through cyberspace

onward, ever onward to nowhere.

Click-send every day now.

And no response.

For six long years the oceans kept us apart

and yet we came together to play-by-email

world war two games-

as if an Internet-based umbilical cord bound us together

Click-send every day now.

And still no response.

Though you have gone,

I cannot but send the file.

I need to send the file.

I need to hope.

If there is no file to send, and no file to come back,

What am I to do?

The blue line lurches onwards.

And the return is empty.

I log-on every day and get mail

and yet emptiness is all that is returned.

No ring of the bell,

No knock at the door,

No progress for the Russian troops as they storm over the steppes,

No rest for my heart as I lie over the keyboard.

I get spam about ham.

I get alerts about deserts,

But I get no file returned.

Click-send every day now,

and yet I know nothing will come back to me.

Now all I have with my empty inbox, are pictures in my mind

of cricket, pubs, beers, Sunday Roasts,

Arguments, homework status requests,

Rides to parties, scolding, motivating

working, playing, soccer, holidays,

beards, tiredness, coughing,

horror movies we both enjoyed,

Billy Blast-off, flu in pink sheets at Allen Drive,

Cavaliers, Rabbits on trunks,

Sandy, Queenie, granddad,

Royal Artillery shows, air-shows,

more cricket matches, trips to Yorkshire,

the importance of being Lewis,

and on and on.

And so I can drown my hope in pictures

all the while I wait for that file return

that can never come back.

I know this,

and yet I still have to send it.

Why did I not send more?

Why did I not send more?

For every hour I have left,

I would gladly give up, for but one more "Click-Send".

For every day I have left, for every week, month and year of this blessed life,

I would gladly give up, for but one more "Click-Send".

Forgive me, myself

and think not of this.

For it is destructive and he cannot forgive me

not yet that is,

not yet, until later

I trust.

And so, until the time arrives when he can forgive me

I will forever Click-Send.

And soon time permitting

Maybe I will again Click-Send,

but this time I pray to a son of mine

that makes the same mistakes as I,

makes the same regrets as I,

makes the same decisions

and the same dreams.

When that day comes, I will simply change the email address,

and hope that forever,

I can Click send.

And I too will then wait his response,

and wonder what he's doing to take so long.

(c) 2001 A White