The Music She Skips To

 

Am I alone in this drone of a world

that needs to unplug?

 hear me, hug me, look me in the eye!

wake up, shake up, half-baked

everywhere I walk

drugged out

bugged out

ear-budded

vibrating

resonating

detonating beat so loud

it’ll crap-zap the brain-waves flat!

 

and people wonder why no one talks to them?

 

HELLOOO!

IS ANYBODY THERE?

 

Today, on the way to pick up my son from

his fun super-plugged computer-hugging school

I roll down my car window

tiredly, in over-drive -

I’m decidedly pissy at the hissy-fitted world in general, and

I need some sun and wind to revive me

to remind me of

something … real

 

And here

she

is

bobbing along the sidewalk

nothing “budding” from her ears

smiling, skipping a little – but,

what’s that she’s holding up to her mouth?

not a phone, please not a phone -

 

her eyes catch mine

fine eyes, alive

and she holds up to her mouth – nothing

but a sweet stalk

of

fresh

juicy

spring grass

 

and the music

she skips to

is

her

own