Untitled

Untitled

A Poem by Wilyem Clark

Our holiest icons are on our phones,
Wee portals that, with a touch,
Allow us to traverse the globe in milliseconds
Effortlessly and without much thought.
We petition them for comfort,
Amusement, enlightenment;
But how
How
How can pixel-patches
Replace the ministrations of true friends
Whose tenderness transports us further,
Into superlunary realms
Where emotions are superseded by
A kind of cosmic ecstasy?

© 2021 Wilyem Clark


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Added on May 18, 2021
Last Updated on May 18, 2021

Author

Wilyem Clark
Wilyem Clark

Washington, DC



About
I've been writing poems since my teens (now in my 60s) and prose since the 1990s. It's been hard finding decent forums online--the free websites too often suffer sudden deaths. My "published" works ar.. more..

Writing