Qwerty

The quick red fox our fingers trained to jump

over the lazy brown dogs so that we

could tell our keys were working properly

has come to a full stop. His russet rump,

that levitated on so many pages,

can loll at ease, ringed by his treasured tail.

Now on his own, he leaves no paper trail,

and though his years of service brought no wages

our kind neglect should let him rest unseen

and unmolested, thanks to this refinement -

no need to test these pixels for alignment.

Could he be lurking, though, behind the screen,

unready for a life unmonitored,

yellow eyes puzzled, wanting to know why

we'd let him, like those logy canines, lie?

Hunters of words, we roused him with a word;

quick on the jump but not quick to forget,

his ears are pricked for the old click-and-clack

that called him periodically back

to scramble madly through the alphabet.