EDIT AND WASTE

a poem by Trevor Allan McLeod, Canada

Crop, copy and paste.
These are the days of edit and waste.

Digital pictures matching our taste.
Everyone fuzzy in dot-matrix.

Saved as a file in some special place.
Not just a folder, a name with no face.

Shared with our friends all over the net.
Nobody wiser to that they've not met.

Clicked on again to remember the time.
Scrolled by a mouse; through thumbs in a line.

Dragged in and dropped to folders where bound.
Making them searches of files to be found.

Beautiful pictures fill up my screen.
Some of them larger than what I have seen.

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