Running On Silence

Sitting upon the rocks,
(by the fast flowing river,)
the crow mocks, mocks
the movements made
by men on the bridge,
and bends his head
with animal curiosity.

The men move with their feet,
beating to the beat
that no man hears.
The cars busy themselves
like men; mocking
their movements they file
behind each other each
one facing the fronts
and backs of one another.

And sitting upon the rocks,
(by the fast flowing river,)
the crow flaps, flaps
its wings to flight
as another day passes
(the river flows onward).

*This poem was a strange one to me. Though we live in a world that is full of technological advancement and communication is easily accessed, we barely talk to people anymore face-to-face. Nor do we hear our voices in the streets, just the engines of machines running. Have we lost something?