LXXXV
I walked beside the River Bourne
Into my local town -
The autumn sun glowed on leaves
Of yellow, red and brown.
Above the murmuring motorway
Birds twittered loud and clear,
I passed a pretty young woman
With a phone clamped to her ear.
She chattered away continuously
Who said what - to whom,
The sort of personal things you say
When you're alone in a room.
She didn't see the sunset sky,
Or hear the church bells ring;
She didn't notice people
Or hear the blackbird sing.
Children and dogs passed her by
But her glazed eyes completely missed
All the beauty and interest around
For her, they did not exist.
Then she started texting
With concentration supreme,
There was nothing in her world
But the eerily glowing screen.
Mobile phones are useful,
That no one can deny,
But users ignore their surroundings
Life just passes them by.
Bourne Meadows,
September 2005
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