Its leaves like autumns gathered leaf on leaf
a pile of thoughts put into words that make a whole
a series of pages full of meaning
of expressions full of art
of shaped forms called letters

once written by hand
flourished
holding a birds feather
a plume
where each word was an aesthetic creation
a characterful statement made by the author
containing nuances of inner meaning
that no printed word can contain
save in our own hopefully fertile imagination

and now a digital page
in a parallel electric brain
in fonts of different character  
anonymous and yet communicated to the world
to many eyes that see
in graffiti on walls in cities
flown by in the sky
how all has changed since Dickens lit his candle
wrote his screeds

Margaret Ann Waddicor 6th April 2016