It is the flowers
I fail to see
For the trees
Even the appearance of a rainbow
Cannot dispel the darkness
So I plumb the darkness
Seeking the rainbow within
I wonder which god
With violent rhythm
And upending verse
Turned this sea bed on edge
I am struck by the depth of gratitude
Rising like a sun with my own inner light
For the guidance, support and encouragement
Offered by family and friends and mentors
And the generous kindness of strangers
Who have made of themselves
Friends
I stand here
In the light
With my platoon
Ready to take on
Anything
Thank You
“Ahhh!”
He theatrically intones
Before another whistling breath
“Smell that fresh air!”
Musky dung beyond barbwire
Making us gag
As we pass his home
In a small development
Surrounded by farmer’s fields
“Mr. Abbott!” sang the chorus
On a world
Of alien beauties
We’ve given familiar names
So not to feel
So far from home
Smoky.
The smell of a campfire.
But the nearest fire set a hundred thousand trees alight, a hundred or more kilometers away. I wonder, was that one lightning? A cigarette? A carelessly managed fire?
Of course
I often manage
To imagine something
Stranger still