I wonder how many times
I’ve missed a connection
with a soaring hawk or
a waving tree because
I’m thinking what to have
for lunch? How often I’ve
skipped a message because
I’ve been offline to the world?

Antennae down, disconnected,
cut off from everything beautiful
and real, living in my closed-circuit,
looping self of made-up unreality
when just outside is a living
amazement ready to be adored.