Paper

An elegy

Touch its gentle heft.  Breathe

Its smell of words.  Hear

Its powdery lament.

Stardust, house dust

Glitter, must

Do even diamonds

Turn to rust?

I like the weight

The pull of gravity

The charm

Of real books

In hand, in lap

In crook of arm.

The neon scream

Of ebook readers

Tablets, pads

Flags the spirit

Tires the heart

A wearing, tedious fad.

Some day on the eternal shore

The book of life

Will open

And no more

The flash of manmade light

And speeding streams of bits

To bear.

O hurry time

To find a resting there.