I have a second poem in the Schuylkill Valley Journal. Here is the poem:

Sounding Off

Most days my life
is hijacked
by the cacophony

of everyday.
All those quiet
things I love—

like raking leaves,
shoveling snow,
or sitting

in the garden sun
communing
with the birds—

have been taken
in torment by power tools—
manned by an army

determined to work
from sunup to sundown
in the service of a greener lawn

or snow-free sidewalk.
Most days my garden
is noisier than the flight

deck of an aircraft carrier.
Inside is no better—
my appliances all beep

to inform me
of God-knows-what
and I’ve caught

the fridge dinging
just for the hell of it.
My phone and pad

and laptop
announce in synchrony
the arrival of critical information—

such as the whereabouts
of the Prince of East
Yahupits—with pings,

haptic lights,
and haughty trumpet calls—
so alien to the human senses

it confirms we are
not alone
in the Universe.

Today, I half buried
my internet devices
in my neighbor’s

sidewalk snow.
His snow blower launched them
and threw a blade.

After, I took my lawn chair
into the icy air
and sat silently in the snow.