T is for Triggered

Poem, by my friend Vivienne, who rather than ranting, paints a delicate picture of the future …

Zen and the Art of Tightrope Walking


I’d expected the land to be silent,

For willows to weep and doves to mourn.

Yet larks sang, rising over acres

Of emerald green winter wheat

And bare fields sown with a million flints

Shattered by behemoth harrow and plough.

I’d expected rain, at the very least;

Tempestuous clouds letting rip

With a deluge to drown us all.

Yet the sky is merely grey and dull,

The usual March dampness to the air,

And the temperature hovering at mild.

I’d expected signs and portents

Speaking of grim days to come,

Harbingers of doom,warning us.

But only a confused owl hooted in a copse,

Awoken by smaller birds, squabbling,

Fighting for territory and for mates.

I’d expected the little river to be

Cloudy with mud and debris

From passing storms upstream,

Yet it flowed clear and fresh,

And I found myself expecting the kingfisher,

Sticklebacks and the elusive dipper.


View original post 98 more words

3 thoughts on “T is for Triggered

  1. dunelight May 2, 2017 / 12:47 am

    I just…I’m not sleeping well. I feel I have failed the future … humans…whatever or whoever is left after we are done with the fallout from our greedy crazed leaders having their ways with us. It is a beautiful world, too perfect in so many ways but last December I thought to myself, we are going to do it, we are going to kill her in the next two years.

    Your friend said it so much more beautifully.


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