Ode to the E-book
– Mary Jo Magar –
All my friends at once I see, near and far,
Together in time yet apart in time,
Some glossy, just born, outstanding in line
With others middle aged, each matte, with mar;
The dearest, decrepit, survive on par
With centenarian victoire, sublime,
But nevertheless losing strength of spine
And returning to dust – what we all are.
Yes, my friends on my shelves grow old and die,
But the E-book is the eternal soul,
The unembodied message by and by
That is everywhere at once, pole to pole.
The mightiest of all: Word, made nigh,
More than pen, sword, time, space, or bound book whole.