"Mind the gap!" the metal voice advises.
A mother and two teenage boys rush in;
she's tired of their antics and chastises
despairingly, with ill-contained chagrin;
they know the drill and nod and sit maturely,
their twinkling eyes frog-leap each stranger's face
-- we read the ads, we doze, we smile obscurely,
while some of us just stare off into space.
They chatter in the silence, sharing knowledge
about the carts they've built from scraps of lead,
we dream with them of what they'll learn in college,
and almost see inventions in their shed.
A jolt brings us to life. We hear that voice snap.
Between our dreams and living lies a gap.