I’ll go on a three hour walk without my cell phone
I’ll listen to the sound of cicadas dancing in tall, midwestern grass 
I might swat away some tiny bugs that often land on the areas of my shoulders and chest 
where sweat seems too often condense the most
The soft hum of a Honda civic driving in the distance will 
vibrate against my ear drum, 
though I will come to a stop when I see 
the herd wild turkeys crossing the street 
and entering the backyard of one of the 
houses hidden among the trees along this walking path 
At some point, I’ll reach the point on this path where 
I’ll feel a small chill down my back as 
the sun has been hidden by new luxury apartment buildings 
with lifeless units I’ll never be able to afford 
and bustling coffee shops that I’ll inevitably go spend money 
I don’t have on a small latte
I’ll pick up my speed a bit, 
hoping to get past this area in town,
and reunite with the sun and cicadas once more 
before I’m locked away in my apartment for the night, 
writing poetry on my phone about how much I hate being on my phone 
and how cold and silent my apartment is