Small, puffy-white and moving
swiftly at the wind's urgent
demand against the oceanic
blue sky, like infants awaiting
maturity into fully-fledged
clouds whose presence obscures
the sun, they drift lazily above
the forest like browsing sheep.
The needle-sharp atmosphere of
a mean-spirited winter day rouses
itself to defeat the wan warmth of
the sun's rays sending spurts of
light through leafless branches.
Crystals of ice overnight crusted
the forest stream; beneath the icy
glaze, the stream flows, bubbling.
That colourful brace of dabbling
ducks has finally left the misery
of that inhospitable landscape. The
drake's incandescent green cap no
longer bobs serenely along the
silent stream, nor do his mate's
paddling feet churn flotsam now.
Suddenly the apprentice clouds
become masters of their element;
stridently large and grey, confidently
shielding the sun from display and
what had been illuminated is now
dim, the forest settling grimly into
acceptance of another winter day.
She sits, complacently resplendent,
dignified as befits a lady of her
years and heritage, garbed in a
soft silvery mantle, scintillating
against the indigo velvet curtain
of the firmament, aglow and stately,
guiding night-time mariners adrift
in a sea reflecting the dark lid of the
sky, navigating by the winking stars.
Below, it is cold enough to crack
bones, to freeze the flow of blood
and place the unprepared into a
comforting sleep to last an eternity
of nights. Up there, in the dark
remoteness of space that silver orb
coasts the sky immune to flattery,
beaming from her heavenly element
to those below, trusting her wisdom.
Back in the day when we were
young, the lessons we learned
were about a Cold War, nuclear
MADness, and to crouch under
our desks when the siren sounded;
that the Iron Curtain separating
us from a surly and powerful
bear quick to anger, could
threaten and strike doom.
Today's students are taught
about the Warm War and a
Carbon Curtain threatening their
future, the adversaries not those
earlier portrayed but those
representing an agreed conclusion
struggling against the ignorance
of the culpable deniers.
Children are eager to learn,
absorb their lessons well, recite
at command their dutiful
understanding of puzzling events;
resilient however concerned they
become at these threats to their
futures, understanding full well
that they have met the enemy.
Great galloping gulps of wind
bellow through the winter-bare
tree tops. The trees weave and
heave in a wretched, clacking
danse macabre; a wracking,
pulsating appeasement of the
demonic fury, sacrificing limbs,
scattering dark scars on the
snowy forest understory.
From a sky of darkly bruised clouds,
constant belches of a furious, ranting
presence, a continual vituperative
gale of undiminished rage. Furry
smallfry cower in terror of a force
whose anger careens off the
landscape, destroys all in its path,
their frail nests, they themselves.
Only the ravens rejoice, lifting
their black presence into the ravening
blasts, like fearless children on a
carnival ride, defying adult fears.
Each fresh burst of wind engulfs the
forest in a thunderous din as of a
herd of approaching cattle outpacing
an oncoming locomotive, a fleet of
jets streaming the forest canopy.
Hey, this is my personal site.
Cool, isn't it? Like those photos?
Plenty more where they came from.
I can't claim credit for any of
these neat photos I download,
but they do reflect a lot about me,
what I like, for example...
The quotes aren't mine, either.
But you must know that? Or the
poetry, of course; I just like it,
all of it, a lot. You might say
this all reflects my original taste,
and it does, nothing more,
certainly nothing less....
I'm fifteen, in case you were
wondering. Brown hair, curly,
brown eyes. I'm not skinny. I
love the colour yellow, even though
I don't look good in it. I wear black
well. I love to read especially anything
by Jody Picoult, my very favourite
author, I've read all her books.
I love listening to music; Adele
and Lady Gaga the best of all. Rap
is OK but I hate country and
Western, sorry if you do; no offense.
Go ahead, you can ask a question,
I'll respond, no big deal....
Except, even if you're 18, tall and
good looking, don't bother asking
where I live, what school I go to,
my cellphone, that kind of shit,
because that's where you're
overstepping the boundaries
of the invitation....
