Specks on Spec

One ray of hope
Falls on the page
Like a good blade
And cuts the day.

Touch takes the text.
Light just limns it,
Marks at the edge—
It glows it means.

For lives and lives,
Tongues wagged, hands waved.
There were no bricks,
No inks, no books.

We don’t need books.
Not then, now, next.
It’s just such plush
Wealth to clutch texts.