Friday, May 31, 2019

Tablets, But Not From Mount Sinai - poem

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com

Tablets, But Not From Mount Sinai

There is no darkness to our restless nights
Even the trees are lit by an industrial glow
One’s room is a mystery of little lights
Hovering like fairies putting on a show

Mostly blue, a yellow one here and there
Some reds and greens, as boxes take on power
Our masters’ eyes and spies, colouring the air
While watching, listening, hour after after hour

You wake, you listen - a moving finger writes
There is no darkness to our restless nights

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