Shutters

These 30 years our lines connect our roofs, we share electric power and our words cross through the wires, yet we just wave to each other from our driveways, she once young and soft with babies, their father then coming and going as he pleased. I can't recall having heard the sound of her voice, and her shutters reveal no lights from within, but her grandchildren laughing sweetly on Saturdays jumping into her car are clearly the dearest children in the world.