, and since I couldn't find a website that included the poem, I've typed it out.
Another Manner of Touch by Bob Hicok
I took this from him and won't give it back, the idea
that paths in the woods, paths worn or chopped,
that in their coming and going, how they're revealed
by snow and vanished by thaw, that you
can be standing there, feeling old perhaps, feeling removed
from those you love in their countries
of skin and distance, standing in a shroud
of your own breath, and notice for the first time
ever or the first time in three years, whatever,
that you are alone when these paths on the mountain
announce themselves, white lines appear and you can't help
but think of people walking, which makes you feel
that obviously people are alive, which you hadn't
been feeling in your isolation, which comes along with you
everywhere you go, which seems to arrive ahead of you
in these going places, and these paths, which are really
just a record of footfalls, an easy archaeology
of destruction, of how we're abrading the whole kit
and caboodle, which even when we can't see them exist,
isn't that the hope, they're almost words or stars,
nearly hands reaching across the bed at night, just
to remember that you're there and you are, mostly.
I liked the idea of wandering paths and the footprints that others have left behind and how well it applies to the internet. Nowadays, it's a socially acceptable to browse through peoples' photos or recent statues updates, and in a way, it's the most detached way of personally connecting with someone, even with a stranger. Moreover, it's hard to believe that you can identify with someone more on the internet than in real life; we forget that real life can be very impersonal to maintain a certain appearance or avoid talking with strangers. On the internet, we can feel detached but in a good way, and it gives us the ability to openly express our thoughts and concerns, and there will be critics just like in real life, but we can disregard those people because somewhere out there in the vast openness of the interweb there will be someone who feels the same way.
And if there's not, post something and someday there will be.