Morse vs. Horse

Up
since dawn
a rider
passes by men
planting branchless trees
to which a single strand
of wire will be affixed.
Thirty-five years earlier
a painter misses his wife’s funeral.
Envisioning a better way,
boosting signals with relays
to Baltimore he sends 
a stream of pulses,
‘What hath God wrought’;
Money for
instant
words.

Originally published in SENSATIONS MAGAZINE, Supplement 8

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