Crying Wolf

("Howling Rock" - 2016, Castle Rocks, Idaho) Crying Wolf My phone is set to the tone of a trumpet horn To signal incoming texts And every time it sounds I think of Robin Hood calling out for me. I think he must have been a disciplined And discerning fellow long ago In his Sherwood Forest, Because otherwise the woods would be filled With his call And eventually we Merry Men would grow weary And confused by the chatter. And so it is today As my phone sounds the horn Again and again, Like the boy crying wolf Asking only for some attention To ease his boring, lonely existence. This is the modern world after all, Ruled by comfort and instant gratification, And an increasingly pervasive sense of isolation; The insulated world of us all Now so far removed from the threat of wolves, Taking it all in, instead Through sheep’s eyes, Confident that all is well, as it should be, And if it isn’t Then surely, 'it can’t happen here'. My phone is finally silent As I compose these words Giving me time to think Of all that waits out there beyond my senses Breaking through not as a horn But as a distant howl Growing ever louder Beyond the boundary of my defenses. (1/21/24)