Jenkins Rising

For a Mobile Phone

In your eye the light was dying,
And I could not keep from crying
For the memory of the future
I had meant to spend with you.

When I called them to revive you,
They just sat machines beside you.
You were silent to the inside;
There was nothing words could do.

But it struck me, as you faded,
That your face grown grey and shaded
Was the one thing fixed in memory
From the time I’d spent with you.


Then they lost your final echo
And I left you to the shadow;
And I told myself the shadows
Would do all they could for you.

And my new phone was fantastic,
Made of opal-patterned plastic.
So I photographed a lily
And I thought no more of you.


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