“Involuntarily, I glanced seaward – and distinguished nothing except a single green light, minute and far away”

 – F. Scott Fitzgerald, ‘The Great Gatsby’


Across the digital bay

a beacon, small and green,

flashes, and is gone.


The current: silent, static,

but for a spare grey tick –

the crest of curious interest


not piqued enough to peak

and break the radio-waves.