VANISHING HORIZON
Instead of the live cry
of seagulls,
The ping of an email
arrives
Instead of the beating of wings
on a wide expanse
Our eyes squint
on a palm sized horizon
We control the sound
we control the light
We determine what and
which surprises arrive
Within our palm, where
where digital horizon now abides
We are lost in pixels—
A screen lights up at will
is it day or is it night?
Vanished is the mystery of
a naturally setting sun
Once, darkened light
signaled the end of day
We now control light and arrival of notices
cherished devices held like bibles
— Abraham Menashe
© 2017