Lost in Time
No more guys and girls happily driving
open-air convertible cars on weekends
free of seat belts tethering their bodies,
sweet winds swaying, fighting and playing
with their loose hairs.
No more
children walking on the streets to school,
carrying their notebooks in their arms,
not in backpacks and not on buses.
No more
bicycling around only for pleasure,
without protective helmets and gloves.
No more
family sitting on the front porch after dinner,
sharing the latest neighborhood news.
No more
walking in the fields under the moonlight.
No more
fresh milk bottles delivered to the house, but
milk boxes at immense supermarkets, with
sleepless cameras furtively watching over us.
No more
letters, no business letters, no love letters,
only e-mails to be lost in cyber space.
No more
people greeting each other, even without
knowing themselves.
No more
parents, boys and girls together going out at night,
carrying and bearing in common their dreams and desires,
just like a pack of wolves that have not learned to separate.
No more
growing, assembling and sharing rooms and lives around,
indifferent to strange customs of those
who do not love and do not like each other,
their children being the children of all of them.
© Edilson Afonso Ferreira
About the Author
A Brazilian poet, Mr. Ferreira, 75, writes in English rather than in Portuguese. Largely published in international journals in print and online, he began writing at age 67. He was nominated for the Pushcart Prize 2016. His first Poetry Collection – Lonely Sailor – has been launched in London, November 29, 2018, with one hundred poems.
He blogs at www.edilsonmeloferreira.com.
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Raja's Insight 
Loved this. Thank you for sharing
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Thanks, Shantanu Baruah!
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Reblogged this on The Salamander Chronicles – Don Beukes.
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