Saturday, September 25, 2004

Nuclear sea of fire


This is not comfortable just-before-bedtime reading.


tinyhands said...

Today, between the cyprus knees, I sat and watched the drakes and hens 'til the shade grew long and the light grew dim. Muscovies and mallards, grackles and grebes, and irridescent pigeons fifty at a time. A mother duck, rightly proud I imagined, paced nervously along the shore, waddling like the obese ladies at Wal-Mart. Her twins, bobbing like corks and similarly attired, 'peep, peep, peep'-ed for her to join them. Apart from the whistle of the train and the hacking chopper blades I can hear the mallards as they 'wakk, wakk, wakk' for their ladies and 'tickle, tickle, tickle' their feeding chirp. As for the humans, it's mostly children defending their picnics from the pigeons, fifty at a time. Grandma can tell the difference between their screams of joy and of pain. I cannot and am forced to turn around time and again. Joe and Mary had been here long enough to carve 'Joe (heart) Mary' but the only thing I know is that they aren't here now. A tiny, weathered plaque reads, 'This bench generously donated by Thom and Margaret Donaghue.' Thanks.