LOST HORIZON
Instead of the live
cry of a seagull
The ping of an email
is heard
Instead of the beating of wings
against a wide blue expanse
Our eyes squint
on palm sized devices
We control the sound
we control the light
We determine what and
which surprises will arrive
Within the grasp of our hand
a digital device is held
The screen is triggered
to light up at will—
Is it day or is it night?
we are absorbed in its pixelated surface
Once a darkening sky
signaled the end of day
Instead, we now control when the light
will arrive in devices held like bibles
— Abraham Menashe
© 2017