UntitledA 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the ministrations of true friends Whose tenderness transports us further, Into superlunary realms Where emotions are superseded by A kind of cosmic ecstasy?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 AuthorWilyem ClarkWashington, DCAboutI'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
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