When I Put Down My Phone

poetic thoughts on what we see and hear w/o our phones

Yes, I get it. According to Substack’s own data, about 67% of us use our phones to read stuff on Substack. I’m not saying Kill the Phone. Not ever, I like my phone. I am saying, Be intentional with phone use. This poem took place on Tuesday morning, when I put down my phone.

When I Put Down My Phone. 
I heard squirrels skitter crost the fence tops,
and clamber up the pines.
Squirrels rummage for pine nuts,
and jaws agape, 
race to the oak treetops.
Their springtime babies, squalling, to be fed.
I heard this… 
When I put down my phone.

I heard the downy woodpeckers at work,
banging on the maples.
They find the beetle larvae,
and slurp them out,
bellies full. 
A flight back to nests to feed the screaming chicks.
I heard this…
When I put down my phone. 

I heard the wind chimes play a tune,
three chimes that hang.
Tuned to the key of A,
harmonious,
a secret chord.
Wind chimes play and it please the Lord.
I heard this…
When I put down my phone. 

I heard leaves and needles quiver with the winds.
The leaves, they shake.
The needles? rattle loud.
A symphony,
at first, piano,
and with the rising wind, full-blown fortissimo.
I heard this…
When I put down my phone. 

And sitting there, 
I heard raindrops clatter on the decking,
with plonks as drops hit against each other.
The woods went silent with the first of rain.
I heard all this…
When I put down my phone. 

MAY 07, 2026

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