Those are not windows

We know the difference between screens

And windows

We have seen panes and cracks distort the image.

The daughter of a poet was tasked to pen a poem,

perceived as silly, she wrote it off.

The line led one to believe Heller Keller

dreamt in color-
and Kandinsky painted music

And they laughed-

The black and white words were lost

on the newest Tech-no-extinguish-allingo for rhythmic rules

Class, (the new Beats 

by algorithms).

Photos sans filters, simply

unaltered-in the past-by contrast

To green and blue screens that project a

Headline(r) to the stars.

A theater student herself,

She laughs at those old over-acting 

talkies before Technicolor, whose

lame movements, I justify-

are compensations for lack of color.

Well, faking it was fun. 

Forts and refrigerator boxes

worked for pretending elsewheres and make

believing in speech-

Until we started to believe 

the sounds were real.

As though everyone knows 

colors come naturally

to all things reflective

Only-

Is it touching that tells the truth?

The poet has no sense.

Painting by By Juan Gris (José Victoriano González Pérez), Spanish, 1887 - 1927 (1887 - 1927) – Artist/Maker (Spanish) Born in Madrid, Spain. Dead in Boulogne-Billancourt, France. Details of artist on Google Art Project [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.