Tom Dylan

With Phone in Hand

I was in the city centre the other day

when a woman walking towards me,

mobile phone in hand,

eyes glued to the screen,

scrolling and walking,

walked right into me,

bumped straight into me.

 

She looked up from her phone

stared at me, like I was in the wrong,

for getting in her way,

for blocking her pavement,

she then side-stepped around me,

eyes back on her phone,

and stropped off down the street.

 

Shocking, I said, out-loud,

looking around for some support, 

for someone to have seen

the incident, to agree and roll their eyes

at the rudeness of some people. 

Instead all I saw was people

head bowed, staring at their 

mobile phones,

walking and scrolling.

 

I decided to get away

for an hour or two,

away from the city,

out into the country,

to the green Lancashire hills.

 

I walked and climbed,

hiked and trekked,

before finally,

breathing hard,

I reached the summit.

 

In front of me stretched

the wonder of the Lancashire countryside.

On the wooden hill-top bench

a young man was sitting, 

mobile phone in hand, 

busily tapping away,

oblivious to the rolling green spleandour

all around us.

 

What are you doing on your phone?

What could be so utterly fascinating?

Why aren\'t you inspired by all this?

I ranted, waving a hand at the scenery.

He looked up and spoke with a smile.

I\'m actually writing a poem about it.