Poetry: ‘404 tomorrows’

404 tomorrows

You can’t google a dry stone wall,
Squat as a keyboard, beneath a tree,
With branches touch typing the skies.

And you can’t really google shingles underfoot,
Slipping under pressure, like broken URLs
For poorly spelled search terms.

And you unfortunately can’t google unimpeded views,
Rolling before you like search term returns
For carefully constructed ideas of beauty.

And you definitely can’t google the realisation
That a tree’s shadow, beneath a lake,
Can impede your mind’s progress, a mouseclick away

From static screen todays
And 404 tomorrows.

 

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