They all stare
down and twiddle
their thumbs, tap
with their fingers
and bow their
heads in prayerful
homage to the
screens they hold,
the little electric
heart and souls
of existence. I
hold my book,
my silent paginated
friend, all energy
within and no
batteries or power
cord required. I
prefer the leather
and the binding,
the words unfurled
for me across
the centuries,
the ancient text
without text
messaging.
♦