What I learned today

poetry

Today I learned that
ships passing in the night
occasionally make contact

Occasionally a lamplight is flashed
By the one sorry soul
keeping cold vigil overnight
while superior sailors sleep.

In the black-night murks,
that swell and carry
the load,

These barely-beacons
Are usually swallowed by
The latest undulation

The lonely light
flickers on and off
in half-hearted morse code,
a throwaway hello:

short, short, short, short
pause
short
pause
short
long
short
short
long
long
long

This is usually a lost cause
But sometimes,
just sometimes,
another lonely light will reply

It is such an uncommon thing
that
the fatigued mariners
tend to assume it’s a hallucination

Then they return to their
telescope view of the
darkness.

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The Last Bee

poetry

Buzzing along
He happens upon
an autumn-tinged
Worn-petal cosmo

Its fading fuchsia
One of the few
Remaining
enchantments of the year

His limbs are stiffer
They do not freely dangle
Like the honey-drunk
Furry fat bumbles
Afloat in July

But he pays no mind
to his tired and comby legs;
His antennae meander slowly
Arbitrary, lethargic proddings
Into a dying
Beauty

He does not notice
that he is the last of his generation
The only one left,
Buzzing about
At his task

Just another day at work

Woefully ignorant
of the true severity
of his loneliness