Every expression desolates here,
Blank stares, brown walls.
Glass windows reflecting back “Who Cares” faces,
Off to the races to secure the very best seat,
On the train.
It seems ages ago
I was playing in the snow,
Just yesterday the liveliness of children,
My great escape from the mundane morning routine.
Meditating along sub-freezing walks awaken matters to the careless,
Grumbling suddenness of mass transportation.
Always something new to stir that relaxed feeling.
A child’s cry.
Flagrant cell phone
Alarm halting screech.
My breath and headphones
My only saviors.
Maybe there is a God in the technology?
Maybe He exists to blot out the absurd results of our egoistic mortality?
I couldn’t say for sure,
But there is no cure.
Only love is pure.
His hymn within.
Author: Joseph J Treubig
Apprentice Editor: Brandie Smith/Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock
Photo: Mariya Prokopyuk/Flickr