THE UNCONNECTED
Forsaking my shiny lodestone
For a dull and tiny flip phone,
I eventually broke the spell,
But cannot say that all is well.
I write paper checks whenever I pay,
And it’s driving most of my payees away …
I wanted to be present a hundred percent,
But it was not to me
But to the web they went.
When we meet for coffee they get my full attention,
And in return, they barely hear what I mention,
Because now they, not their phones,
Have become the extension.
Wandering souls with ten-second goals,
Drifting down random rabbit holes,
Seeking salvation in digital dust bowls,
No longer at the helm
Of their spiritual controls.
She sits alone in the coffee house,
Calico kittens play with string on her blouse.
Her chin rests lightly on her palm,
She smiles at me with eyes so calm,
And lips with hints of gentle affection.
No screen has she, no barricade,
No taunting texts, no news displayed.
And alarmingly it dawns on me:
Henceforth only the Unconnected
Will be connected
In the scrolling, scattering sea.
(Image – Wikimedia Commons)
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