IPhones on a train platform. 

With their back to the sea

It's a mystery

Dublin Bay beckons

But all they reckon

Is to stare at a phone

While pushing buttons

While life goes ahead

All around them. 

Blackrock train station

And the sun is shining

On the September sea

That gleams behind. 

Commuters with furrowed brows

Examining screens

While pushing and swiping

Missing gulls that scream

Wheeling above furrowed waves

Stretching out to handsome Howth. 

Simple beauty blows free

On a crisp autumn breeze. 

Shadows lengthen as summer

Gently retreats across the Dublin hills. 

Taste and touch

Grasp and feel

What is here and now

Clean, pure and free

Magic yet real.