Yup, it's been a bit of a week. I do love a little self pity.


And so?

If you were to ask,
"How are you though,really?"

I'd say ...
" See that oil slick?
In the middle of the sea?
Do you see that bird?
The one whose feathers,
were once so white and preened, that
It could dive swiftly into the water to fish?
Then, launch itself effortlessly back on the wing,
Glorious!
Dinner in its orange beak,
Its feathers repelling the clinging water?"


"Uhm, yes" you'd say. A little bemused.

"Well, I'm that bird.
Only, THAT bird now, you see,
Is weighed down a fair bit.
The oil has coated its beautiful white feathers,
They no longer shake off the salty water,
And,
it cannot eat,
And,
it doesn't want to.

It's lungs can feel the sludge of the world ."

" Keep watching.
Pretty soon that poor little bird,
Who once took joy as a given,
Who surveyed the world beneath the clouds with its keen eye,

Will simply,

Stop.

Trying.




I know her, moving hurts,

and fighting is an effort

and the water is so cold

and her catatonic state will be a kindness.

Then,

She, and the world will forget that they enjoyed each other.

The slick will envelop her and slowly, slowly she will sink.

And collectively,

The sun will forget her,
The clouds, and so it goes,
And the water?
The water will just keep quiet about it,
Because the slick is too powerful to ever overcome."




Poetry by 1LFD
Read 104 times
Written on 2021-11-29 at 21:13

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