Silence greets the morning

Motes of dust settling in shafts of sunlight

Streaming through the shades

Solitary footsteps echo

As I cross the wooden floor into the kitchen

Where strong coffee awaits

And I plan another day

Closed behind locked front door

My commute mere steps to a small metal desk

Tablet, cell and Internet linked

Thence to my meager tasks

“Work” as a construct of electronic discharges

Disembodied voices, ghosts and shadows

Contact without connection

Interaction without touch

At evening I reflect

On what our collective lives’ experience has become

Hermits sealed in darkened cloisters

Contemplating, wondering

In the absence of companionship and love:

Is this loneliness

Or freedom?

By Mike Turner

From: United States

Website: http://www.MikeTurnerSongwriter.com

Twitter: SchoonerSkipper

Facebook URL: https://www.facebook.com/MikeTurnerSongwriter