card catalogs make for a winken and a blinken but not for a nod, well at least not always :-)

captain's log

The journey begins always in the mind
but it always manifests with the sliding
of rectangular boxes encasing index cards.
The faint odour of vinegary wood ensues
and a chase scene begins in a wooded
forest of leaves, bound by hundreds and
thousands upon thousands of both soft
and hardbound varieties, gilded or plain.
These days a computer terminal or a
touch screen has replaced these boxes
but their function remains the same;
being akin to boarding pass gates that
regulate your voyage above and beyond.

Poetry by arquious
Read 55 times
Written on 2022-04-06 at 05:23

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D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
A nice whimsical paean to the lost art of card indexing; I miss the sensuous feel and flick of those naughty rectangles!