Perhaps we are all born in the right era
growing up regretful we did not come of age
when life was better
the tinge of past tense
greener fields and sentiment
but should we care to revisit them
time shows we are all here when we should inherit our turn
for children of today
do not wish to sit sloppy and long gaited sharing close space
our communication and intimacy has barriers
we have not learned to be comfortable with intrusion
going about our lives unmolested
I could not have endured the proximity
continual chatter and energy required of those
born without headphones and opt outs
they knew how to socialize
crammed on sweating buses before air conditioning
whilst I believe
had I been born in an early century
I’d have taken myself away and reverted
back to the iron age
becoming a mineral underneath earth
where excited hands could pound
their fists of enthusiasm
for I have no wish to be
celebratory or illuminated
more than the passing of one year to next
it is in the quiet avoidance I find most pleasure
those born in times of chatter and noise
rationed by over-head bombs
heralding progress, talking to strangers
you think the world unfriendly now and it is
when it came our time
everyone went quiet
the buses were empty
just a book here and there lay
bent at the spine and unread
for we who keep our windows shuttered
do not wish to join the throng
but sing in lilac trees over looking
the quiet fish pond