For NaPoWriMo day 17, my poem is actually on-prompt, about forgotten technology.

In my youth, the typewriter

Was a treasured companion, despite

Its obsolescence : I typed

Stories using its keys — and remember

The difficulty of too many erasures.


Around age 10, I remember

Playing Oregon Trail on my own

Computer, a big boxy behemoth

Running Windows 98.

I died so many times.

But once I remember embellishing,

Rewriting the trail journal,

So that I had survived.


So easily erased now,

These technologies, and memories,

If we do not write them down.


book on a white wooden table
Photo by Ylanite Koppens on

4 thoughts on “Erasures

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