Nice place to kick back
Nestled red Adirondacks
Stop on the way back
Tag: microfiction
Scraped Clean
The way life clung
To the cracks and crevices
Of the hard rock cliffs
Fascinated him
He imagined it
Like the bottom trawlers
That once dragged The Banks
For cod and haddock
Rather than nets, though
It was glaciers that scraped
The cliff face smooth
Erasing all signs of life
It took thousands of years
Of time and erosion
For life to eek out
This small foothold
His grandfather used to tell him
About throwing a bucket
Over the side
And cod would fill it up
When they closed the cod fishery
It was like another ice age
Swept across Newfoundland
Few fishers survived it
He imagined the ocean floor
Scraped clean by the trawlers
And wondered how long
Before the cod came back
Imperfect Hopes
He woke
Later than intended
Sunlight streamed
Through the trailer window
Rising
He pulled his boots
Over his socks
And clambered out
From the cliff edge
He saw most boats
Were still in the harbour
“That’s good,” he thought
He rushed back into the trailer
Pulled his pants on over the boots
Grabbed the bag with his gear
Made sure the trailer was secure
In the truck
He hoped for the worst
For some other bloke
So there’d be an open spot on a boat
It wasn’t a hope
He liked to hope
But he needed the work
And someone else had to lose out
It was either that
Or over to the cafe
And then the pub
To nurse whatever drink was before him
There was barely enough money for that
But even less to make the trailer
A place he wanted to spend
Any more than a restless night in
Ashore
The world comes apart a little
As I drag myself up onto the shore
Desperate to make the high tide line
Before exhaustion consumes my consciousness
Which seems already sparsely rational
The flood tide saved me
Put land within my reach
But while the Moon is a compassionate Goddess
The Sea Lord is greedy
And eagerly awaits Her waning influence
To drag me back to His depths
Hand over hand I crawl
Wet sand beneath my nails
Sodden clothes a sullen weight
Every laboured breath sputters salt water
Until my eyes roll back
With a final thought
I hope this is far enough
Three Burros
Burro #2: What’s up with this guy?
Burro #3: Dunno.
Burro #2: Why is he stopping?
Burro #3: Dunno.
Burro #2: Wait. What!? Again?
Burro #3: Yep. Again.
Burro #1: Smile for the camera, ladies.
Burro #2: Bloody tourists!
Burro #3: At least the backlight is nice.
Burro #1: 🙂
Burro #2:
Burro #3: 🙂
A Smile Above the Breakers
Hers was an exquisite beauty
Not the kind to command
Covers or runways
That puts a name
Up in lights or lead a headline
Her beauty commanded a second look
The kind you missed on a first take
And yes, it was there on the surface
But more, it ran deep
In her bearing
In the way she made others
The center of her world
Her smile flowed
From every feature of her being
To receive one was to be blessed
The first time
She gave me that gift
It was through a tangle of locks
Tossed about in the wind
The sound of breakers far below
My heart knew only one person
In the entirety of existence
And it took years to convince it
That there were other smiles in the universe
Some time after I’d grown beyond the desire to possess her
Our group of friends retraced that old road trip
And on this same point, through tousled locks
She gave me again that heart-stirring smile
But this time said
“I think I am falling in love with you.”
An Unknown Shore
On an unknown shore
Clear of the wreckage
From which I’d drifted
Alone on an empty sea
Bruised
Scarred
Burnt
But OK
I spit sand and salt
From my parched mouth
Then
Hunger
Reconnoiter
So up now
Onto the roiling sea of dunes
With their smaller wavelets
Of grasses in the wind
From the tallest
Scan up and down the shore
Only waves of ocean and grass
And the tidal strip of sand between
Or signs of habitation
Or even a trickle of water
Splitting the dunes
To join its salty objective
Inland
A barren of pines
Obscures whatever topography
Or structures
May be beyond
At the forward fringe
Where dunes meet forest
Thin
Scraggy
Scattered
Windswept trees become soon enough
A thickly boughed and wooded
In the rustle of wind and sun
Watch the gulls soar
As their caws echo
The chatter of thoughts
Playing out silently in my mind
Ideas without a tide
Or a beach to wash up on
Soaring on an unseen wind
I am adrift in a familiar peace
The pleasures of moments lived fully
On sun and sand excursions
Whether accompanied or
As preference sometimes won out
An adventure of solitude
Before long
The harsh admonishments
Of sun and wind take their toll
And while chewing my lip
In meandering thought
A chapped bit of it tears away
Leaving the taste of iron
The sting of revealed dermis
The elements have reduced my options
To an accommodation with mortality
Move or die
Shade or die
Into the pines
With a good deal more hope
Than the conditions call for
Has more to offer
Than the expanse of nothingness
I now know
Baking already
Under the intensity
Of a morning sun
Bastards
Heaved a sigh
Then made the choice
She’d always made
And always would
Don’t let the bastards get you down
She whispered
Drew another breath
Don’t let the bastards get you down
She said
Drew another breath
Don’t let this bastard get you down
She growled
Then held what remained of her breath
Until she could hold it no longer
Then simply let the breath go
And with it went all the bastards
Even the one who stood before her
Who knew her well enough
That there was no coming back
Once the door closed behind him
She listened for the squeaky hinge
The groaning spring
As the door slammed shut
With satisfying finality
Boots clattered across the porch
Down the steps
Scattering gravel in the drive
A creaky metal door opened
Then screeched shut
Two roars of an engine
The second sprayed gravel
Onto the porch
While the roar drew away
Into the insurmountable distance
Just as he had over the last month
Soon enough the birdsong dispelled her reverie
And when she opened her eyes
The world already seemed brighter
With nary a bastard in sight