Life Beyond a Cell Phone

Life Beyond a Cell Phone

Plugged-in, they drop out of nature
like zombies on a moon walk

Plugged-in, their nervous systems evolve
like crack addicts lurching for a hit

Plugged-in, they forget the color of the sky,
the sea, the backyard juniper trees;

they eat and text, ballooning up like bloated
cows at an alfalfa festival

Plugged-in, they deafly call and dumbly listen,
robotic responses from robot minds.

Plugged-in, and connected, they disconnect
from all but a narrow screen, a stream

Of nothingness infused with meaning by peers,
sanctioned by parents eager to please

Plugged-in, they spiral earthward, numbed
by indulgence and self-gratification,

staring into cyberspace, androids waiting
for the next message affirming existence,

fearing an unplugged universe full of
stars, planets and possibilities.

Home Again

Home Again

After absence the homing instinct
kicks in, gravitational pull of love
tugs the tender heart succinct ,

prods horses with a gentle shove
after a hard day beneath the plough,
bound for home like the morning dove

or homing pigeon's flight from bough
to bough, along a chosen path.
After absence, home seems sweeter now-

a warm respite from life's wrath,
a getaway from labor's harms,
a familiar meal and a hot bath.

After absence, nature works its charms-
resets the clock of hearth and home,
with welcomes wrapped in loving arms