Time was, your hands were on me night and day.
(The thrill along my spine!) Of course I flipped
for you, from A to Z and back to A,
not once suspecting our romantic script
was doomed (and how), you fickle, shallow fool.
You've traded everything you shared with me—
defining moments, leisurely, old school—
for quickies with your laptop, your PC,
your iPad, iPhone, iDon't-Give-a-Damn:
amid their breathless litany of news,
blogs, tweets, directions, recipes and spam,
they will, at any moment that you choose,
look up a word (or dozens!) in a flash.
Well, here's a definition I find merry:
Comeuppance (noun): when all your gadgets crash,
and you crawl back to me—your dictionary.
Walking in on People
Able Muse Press
Copyright © 2014 by Melissa Balmain
All rights reserved.
Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission