Life as It Was

by Margaret Randall

She closes her eyes and listens
to the wind while another
self–proclaimed Luddite
reads a book, not virtual but real
with its feel of paper
and faint scent of printer’s ink
on every page.

These youngsters in Brooklyn
meet once a week
at Grand Army Plaza, a park
with trees, fresh air
and distant city sounds
reminding them the world
exists in real time.

They reject the social media vortex
pulling their generation
into a void where all is now,
instantaneous gratification
with no obligation to think
beyond an easy choice
of emoticons.

They say they are rediscovering
life as it was before a storm
with hundred–mile–an–hour winds
swept their minds clean
of imagination, touch,
and the privilege
of looking at one another.