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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)
Copyright ©
James Moore
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