Sunday, August 23, 2015

The Last Great Ship - A Magpie Tale

Sunday at the computer - the air is serious - so many wildfires surrounding us.

In the last few hours the air has scoured out a bit. It was "Hazardous" and is still rated so in the last 24 hours as of last update by the Dept. of Environmental Quality. It is now only rated "Unsafe for sensitive groups" in my neck of the woods. It will probably drop to "Moderate" sometime soon. However, I am not liking it much. The light is yellowed and hazed. The sun looks weird.

My thoughts are unsettled. Normally it would be a "Magpie Tale Sunday" and I have written a Magpie anyway. Tess is on vacation. I will not link to her page because she does not have one. Tess runs a great poetry prompt, choosing images she likes. Over the years I have grown quite fond of the lass.

The Last Great Ship

On that day wild fires
appeared behind the dry dunes
and sand spit on us
on the red born wind.
We knew the end was coming
for the whales and all.

Bend over - kiss ass.
Say goodbye the ways you dare.
Board the lifer's boat.

Use your first class chit
at long last and sit right down
in the wide soft seats
up front near the hatch
so you can debark at once.

Then recall the rest
who stayed to feed fish
and wolf and high flown osprey
one toe at a time.

‎August ‎23, ‎2015 1:59 PM


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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