Do you find yourself distracted sometimes?
Often?
Do you, like me, ever find yourself locked in an endless scroll through the latest stories, videos, and tales from friends and strangers alike?
This summer I discovered candy crush (yes I know, I’m super late to that party). I downloaded it as just something to pass the time in a waiting room, but it quickly sucked me in.
As all good games do, it rewarded me just enough for me to feel encouraged to keep trying to reach new levels and attain new moments of celebration. It became my go-to distraction.
Sometimes distractions are good.
I know I needed one at times this summer.
But sometimes they keep us from noticing the world around us…. And precious moments like the ones where a bird flies straight into a door….
… yes this happened…
and was the inspiration for this poem today.
OH HELLO, DISTRACTION
A bird flew
past me
one day
not too
long ago…
And, well…
I almost…
missed it.
You see,
my head
was buried
so deep in…
where else…
my phone.
I was caught,
as per usual,
in an
endless scroll…
sucked in by
beautiful oceans,
clean kitchens,
indecipherable
trending hashtags,
and candies
I just had
to crush.
I would not
have seen
the bird
at all
except for
the loud, obnoxious
THWACK
I heard
when its beak
slammed straight into
the bit too clean
glass door
in front
of me.
It took
the briefest
of moments,
the most fleeting
of seconds
before I realized
what I heard
and looked up
to see
the door
just inches
from my face
and the bird
lying shaking
at my feet.
I shot
right into
helper mode
(of course!)
trying to
get the bird
to its feet
while I apologized
profusely
for not being…
present.
Inside,
I was just
as frantic
jumping
back and forth
from emotion
to emotion
as I feared
the bird
lay dying
at my feet.
I felt a pinch
of regret:
If only I had
looked up
and opened
the door.
… and a dash
of sadness:
Oh, no
what if the
bird is dead
and my inattention
killed him!
… and some
guilt-inducing gratitude:
Thanks, bird,
for preventing
my head from
slamming into
the door.
So many emotions
ran their course
through me
in such
a short time,
such a small
moment
while the bird
and I
stood still
and present
to each other
eye to eye,
hand to wing.
But just as quick
as it happened…
it was over.
The bird
recovered
and flew away
just as my phone
buzzed an alert
and I was
once again
lost.
©2022, Gretchen Crowder
