My butterfly net,
mindful archive for this Alchemilla leaf
with its mercury raindrops.
Late on my pillow
I swipe into the blue light,
into a mycelium of new smiles,
endless as waves on the sand.
They say smart.
But smart enough
to remind us that the hilltop,
and the crowded art gallery,
request our presence, naked-eyed?
to remind us that fingertips are for skin?
We stay smart,
if we sift the blessing from the curse:
Foot-soldier of dystopia,
indispensable encyclopaedia of life;
bridge,
wall;
superstore of infinite shelves,
leaving nothing to the imagination.
Photo: Yannes Kiefer on Unsplash