O’ Twitter train, take me, leave me where I’ve not been,
For there are those I want to know in places else I could not go.

A couple of tweets back, Twitter whisked me to New Jersey where I came to know Annie. Annie speaks of peace and feathers. I’ve never met Annie, not directly, and maybe I never will. But I know she has a sister in Ohio, a sister she loves very much. Annie wishes she could see her more often. Annie has not told me this, but I know it is so.

Annie sends encouragement to our men and women who serve in harm’s way. She recognizes the great sacrifices they make. I know they appreciate having her support. I like that Annie assures them this way. I bet Annie has an American Flag somewhere in her little house.

Mostly, Annie talks about feathers and pens and writes in innuendo. Her allure is her mystique. I would welcome Annie as my neighbor — as long as she did not lose her mystique.

I have seen photos of Doris in Canada, each one sporting her infectious smile. I think Doris rarely knows a bad day or ever speaks an unkind word. If you are in a rough spot, you would be well to catch the Twitter train to Canada and seek out Doris.  She has overcome her rough spots, found value in the lessons, and is anxious to make you better for what she has learned.  This is one of the best things about Doris in Canada.

There is April in Florida, the northern part I think. She re-located recently from South Florida for fear of hurricanes’ wrath. She loves cats and lovingly disparages her experiences with them. You can tell they are among her dearest friends.

April shows a lot of courage in dealing with woes about her health. She has made humor her friend. April knows a lot of things, has strong opinions, expresses them openly. I think I could talk to April about anything. I like this about April in Florida.

Tom in Albuquerque paints water colors of the American southwest. I follow Tom’s work because his paintings remind me of my boyhood in West Texas. I have lived in the scenes Tom paints. It’s cozy in them.  Maybe sometime Tom and I will sit down together for a whiskey and cigar in the desert of the American Southwest. I know we will both be at home there.

There is En in Nashville, a mother and a wife. At least I think she has been a wife. I can tell she has poetry inside her.  I hear it crying to get out. I figure Nashville will lure it out of her someday. She will write the lyrics that say what is in her heart. I figure that is why she is in Music City. I’ll be listening for her songs.  Perhaps she will tweet them to me some day.

Karima in Copenhagen is a writer and web artist. She speaks out about a lot of things: animal abuse, human rights atrocities in Africa, hunger and war, the kinds of things that bother most of us. She is very outspoken but I wish she was a little less angry. I worry about her.

I want Karima to teach me about Denmark, its people, customs and culture. But I think her anger sidetracks her because so far I haven’t learned much about Denmark.  I haven’t given up on Karima.  Mostly I hope she hasn’t given up on herself.

A thousand tweets or so ago, I met Jody in Los Angeles. She was my first Twitter friend. We share a love of baseball. She loves the Yankees, knows all about them, even though she never lived in New York.

When Jody left LA for her new job in San Francisco, she left in a hurry — left behind Twitter and her baseball friend. I miss Jody.

But I have a feeling I will find her again somewhere along the Twitter tracks — Maybe in another thousand tweets or so.

O’ Twitter train roll on, roll on.
Tweet me stories I’ve not heard before.