Funeral for a Phone

Phone black.
No on. No off.
No apps, no emails, no blogs.
No hits, no runs, no errors.
Inning over.

Wait a minute.
What is that I hear?
…the sound
of silence.
Of no one calling,
No texts, no messages, no Facebook.

New game:
Watch the road and let the mind wander at red lights.
How cute that couple, wonder if they see that in their handhelds.
What? You texted? Sorry, tell me what you wanted to say.
Take your time. Nothing urgent.

There it sits.
Phone still black.
No on. No off. I tried.
Old habits die hard.
Oh, how this habit has made itself at home.

seeping in,
filling every crevice,
engaging every neuron,
flowing through every artery,
extracting the oxygen of life.

Hey, that’s mine.
Thief, give it back!
Then you died
and left me … everything.
Funny, I hadn’t noticed
it had gone missing.

New game:
forced phone-fasting.
Wasn’t my idea.
Hope it catches on.

We can form teams,
print jerseys,
go out for pizza,
share a few laughs.

Sorry, phone, you’re not invited.
You’ve had your fun.
Now it’s my turn.