Is It Progress? Poem by Gordon D Wilkinson

Technical advances stopped in their tracks
Hiding the scars
Slowing life to a crawl
Electricity flickers and dies
Televisions screens blanked
Silence
Pure unadulterated silence
Flake upon flake falls
Nature’s carpet of white
Crisp and clean
Bringing laughter to children
Showing pure innocence
Fires in the hearth
Huddled round for warmth
Art of conversation restored
Back to the days before progress
Families being families
If only for a time
Cloaked in the beauty
Serene whiteness of snow