A rhyming poem about how modern, air-conditioned houses shut out neighborhood sounds.

Yesterday, while the installers put down
new hardwood flooring in our entry hall,
the open front door admitted the sound
of the neighborhood, which me did enthrall.

From my den chair I heard the faint lonesome
sound of a train horn blowing in the distance,
something not heard upon living for some
thirty years in this house ‘til this instance.

Next I became aware of birds chirping
in yards nearby. Now came the joyful shouts
of children playing. Memories stirring
deep within my mind brought a flood of doubts.

Is modern day life sealed up tight inside
our homes with windows and doors always shut
to air-condition our house justified?
Or have we lost summer’s pleasures somewhat?

In times long past southern heat meant screened-in
windows and doors wide open for breezes
to blow through carrying outdoor sounds within.
Sound’s now sterilized, our comfort to appease!