Bitty

Mail, via light and circuit boards,
bypass our postman's morning clack,
through burps and songs of digital joins,
an inbox of windows' flash and burn.

Nothing and flip-bits march and flop,
A door-tap stops both thoughts and clicks.
Postman, pass my brown box of joy,
Touch-to-touch a mortar-ground
 bit
of my digitally-bound soul.

Back to that cold box-bitty glow.
Day-to-night-to- so- so- so-