Absence

(after a lute song by Thomas Morley, 1602)

Hear thou my protestation.
We’ve outgrown allegory, no longer
can address abstracts as if
they were troublesome neighbors.
What of it? I need only count
time-zones, and my heart does
the same on its fingers. Area codes
may change; lute strings broke.
Then course, there’s always e-mail.
Shakespeare didn’t have that.
No more need for spinning pirouettes
To make of absence a smile.
Too bad, come to think of it.