Robert Frost
Saw the moon
And made bets
With his friends
On whether a cloud
would cover the moon
or slide by.
Emily Dickinson
watched and waited,
yes, waited,
for a butterfly
to land on a flower
And rest.
And I
in my connected
24/7 life
wait
for the *buzz-buzz*
not of the bee
but of the Apple.
I wait for the *blink*
of a connection
And swipe
to retrieve a transmission
that doesn’t connect
so much as distract.
From Nature.
From Natural.
Electronic blue glow
under the moon glow
That I never see.
And do I ever hear the birds
Whistling? Rustling?
And do I feel the wind
caress or sting?
Or do I only hear
the buzz-buzz
and see
the blue glow
as I cradle
the Apple
in my palms
and caress it with my thumbs
Write poetry? Submit your poem to Poetry Catalog