Ah yes, we all know this flickering image. |
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Flickering ImagesIt’s a sign of age, this technological complaint Something gained, something missed, it is what it damn well is, the longing for a time before when people spoke, leaned across fences, smiled on the street, helped each other Before the blue flame ignited every living room Taking us away from friends, from family, even from ourselves Neighborhoods now empty, fireflies uncaught, that time is gone when conversation meant more than table scraps left to last night’s dog Ravenous again tonight, panting and lying there, eyes fixed on flickering |
 This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection BROKEN PIECES available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats. |
