Going Paperless (Poetry)

I’ve conjured a poem — a virtual ode —
bright words hung like flags strung on air ...
Those who squint at the light and imagine quite hard
will discover a dream written there.

My rhythms run fluid — blow round in the breeze
while the colours chameleon-kind
can change with the weather — whatever the mood
when spontaneous thought clouds the mind.

But nothing is proven — the paper stays blank
for mere ink cannot grasp the idea
that flutters so wildly and sings to the moon
and those few hobo souls who might hear.