Hooked into the mortar in the bricks,
One black, one white, one gray.
I know what two of them are for:
The black is from a television service
I canceled years ago; the white’s for phones.
The gray’s a mystery; and though I ought,
I do not care to fight
Through tangled vines and look.
But it heartens me to hope the gray
Links to information I have not yet used,
Not yet needed, not yet sought.
©2017 John I. Blair, 5/30/2017