Sticks and Stones

Away from home

While missing home

Tropical uncertainties traded

For low humidity, blue skies

Family traditions

Free room and board

Minor discomforts

Boring road food

Some of it was acting

Acting, for the benefit

Of those in attendance

Buddy Holly tribute eyewear

In fashion–without thought

Given to rockabilly legends

Some left to make room

for those, yet to come

Modern-day prophets

Rested, never knowing

Their promised lands

Mere words unimportant

Sticks and stones

 

Someday It Will Rain

Messes like these started with single careless acts.  An encore presentation from four years ago.  Perhaps inspired by me doing yard work all day.

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Muted sunlight, filtered

through palmettos

thick, river

bank brush

Colorfully labeled

plastic bottles

aluminum cans

convenience store

Styrofoam cups

branches and driftwood

contrasted, with water

cress greenness, linked

arm-in-arm, rafted

Huckleberry Finn

style, to the sea

Civilization devolved slowly

Parade noises faded

into previous night’s

memory–these children

of promise, like

“Quest For Fire” extras

practiced their lines

Jousted for dominance

Plucked another

cold one, from the

plastic ring–“dead soldier”

empties, tossed in

spirited competition

like skipped river stones

The skies darkened

Blustery winds blew

Warning signs ignored

when the signs

were all there

Whose side

were they on?

Nobody knew

Reveling continued

till early morning

when liquor was gone

First sprinkles

then torrent

remaining traces

of conscience

floated away