Retiring the Roughbook

The roughbook once through paper stayed
With hurried lines and margins frayed
Through meetings thoughts and plans delayed
A quiet ground where fragments played
Yet years moved on and habits bend
Old tools grow light as new tools mend
The tablet waits with light to send
Unfinished thoughts that twist and blend
No final page no ink to dry
Just moving notes beneath the sky
The function stays though forms may die
Like ships that change yet still comply
The roughbook rests its work complete
While light now carries what I keep
— 28/05/26