Who Do you See?

I know that I am often guilty of ignoring the people around me, while being "social," via some technological device. I know that at times the ringing of phones and clicking of keys has replaced the family sitting around and chatting, or playing a game, or even just making eye contact.  I wrote this poem when I was feeling especially frustrated by my own choices, and especially invisible to the people I live with.

The heavy woman steps
off the curb
in front of the car
and you scream, "Mad Cow Alert!"
and'
"Hey, Get Out Of The Road!"
and you never know
that today
she wiped the butt of her
dying 
mother
and lost her job
for taking yet one more day off work.


The teenager who lives,
under your roof
and once grew under your heart
sits sullen and silent
through dinner
and you miss the flash of humor, 
the twinkling fingers
send out via a text to anyone
but you


The dirty, grizzled man
approaching in the parking lot,
you dart past
with eyes averted
although
out camping last weekend
another, dirtier man
walked up to your camp, carrying a hatchet
and you smiled a welcome
the setting,
and being "out of service"
defining how closely you look.


Do you see me?


Sometime you passed my way
under the florescent lights
of the grocery store
and saw a germanic hausfrau
a tired teacher
no-body interesting
so you forgot me.


Sometimes you turn away
from the people in your house
eager to hear what I have to say
on-line, 
curious how I will reply to your post
where we share dreams
and hopes
common experiences
and individual fears


You don't know my name
or even suspect
I might have been the cow
who blocked your car.