“Today only, . . .
“Yarns, new year yarns . . .
“Come get your yarns!”
On a whim!
It’s just Maq and I, but this year,
We plan to sail for Cantaloupe island where
the pulsating sun is said to warm the sand
and inspire browned men to song.
We’ve mused over its cresting waters . . .
Its breezes, alternately soft and forceful . . .
We’ve tasted from Herbie’s hand its firm, musky fruit
And we’ve decided, it’s time to dispatch the old yarns.
New yarns shun incomplete expression . . .
The weight of being saved in space, but never
serving the hungry reader; Dwelling instead,
forgotten, in a cold cyber prison.
That unrealized truth helped a thing of darkness live darkly,
So darkly that the talents of a child prodigy made me angry.
How could he have it all? How could he be so richly musical,
while I’m too poor for words?
Why, like that haunting bloop heard near the ocean floor, I
was unconscious — a beautiful mystery, but nothing more.
Then a shadow flitted by my pane of sky.
She dipped low, then skittered high,
needing little from the hand of Creation
but the nugget firmly in her bill.
From existing seed, she quickly attains completion,
Re-finds the high road and drives, chin up in air.
In praise of her lightness, we too are preparing for liftoff!
** To all — Share your yarns and a happy new year! **