We could not bite into your orchard fruit
Or feel its crisp sweet in our teeth
Your gifts were more abstruse, packed with wires...
we slid our pointer fingers on the mandala of your music box...
tip-tapped on the keys of your smooth-screened genies...
held all the world and its tiny wings on your dial pad's beautiful grandchild...
and felt like passengers on the dolphin leap of your mind
giddy as we traced an arc above the past's mediocre seas.
