[Image by Salvator Dali]
Today, she decided, before even
opening her eyes. Today would be slow,
against the grain of modern age. All know
the pressure to maintain “busy”. Ravens
watched, spread their wings, stood guard then as she rose
slowly from her bed, stretched and yawned (her nose
wrinkling) and made towards the window. Men
were hurrying to and fro, tasks more than
ever could hope to be completed – no
thanks to machinery; technology.
The mechanical age had created
so many more labours than hands had known.
Time had sped up to the whirring of cogs;
yawning of souls no longer elated.
[Copyright © N R Nolan 2016]