Blue Boo Boo

In the far Pacific, they live lives unhindered like ours. Well, that is what we like to think. I am not sure that living on a Island with the highest instance of Malaria anywhere in the world is a wonderful idea. Pass thr G&T. All we see is the blue sky and the white beaches. When they want us rich people to come over and spend money, all the bad things get swept into the sea. We don't see the non-biodegradable water bottles or the raw sewage. It is not all clear water and cocktails.

Not sure where that came from. I was blocked for a minute or two and was considering an oblique strategy but that just came to me.

The music on the radio driving home last night was very fine. I cannot actually remember what it was but it seemed to fit with the darkness and lights along the dock road.

Moon Tree

The shadow is a solid thing,
a black space where the tree,
in daylight stays calmly waving.
But in the night and in the moon,
it takes a spirit, ghost or puck,
to walk its field, a soldier, guided
by its fingers to the edges.
And we find it moved but never say,
make no remark on this phenomenon;
Our glance of sub-atomic moments
made to the other never goes beyond
the disbelief, the idea that we,
the rational and concrete ones
are wrong about a walking forest.
The wood has met the castle walls,
broken down the stones and empire
while all about, the green makes light
of what we see as evil.
The laughing soldiers, all the trees,
join in feasting on the lakes of moor,
the sucking roots of rougher ales
and dirty water raise them as gods.