A Modern Family

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We cross the street from our apartment on NW 21st Ave.

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We dine at the Italian restaurant on the corner.

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A family of three walk in. A man, a woman, a child.

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Each staring at their individual rectangles.

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They are seated at a back table, as silent as when they came in.

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Each one engaged with their own e-mail, e-text, e-games,

e-whatever.

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No one makes eye contact, no one talks to the others at the table.

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The waitress brings their orders. They eat in silence, absorbed in

the glow.

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It will make leaving the family so much easier when the time

comes.