Virtual Reality

After long afternoons
communing with the tape of
birds from long-ago and far-away,
Does she feel less alone?
Climbing in the curtains,
Tugging at knots in denim,
The white bird abides
Abides in loneliness.

I also, feel the long days
Passing like tolling bells.
Shall I find a tape
Of friends, or lovers,
To listen, again and again,
In the tolling afternoon?