NaPoWriMo 2.20: Sparse

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Caught up! Here’s my take on the shell name, ‘The Sparse Dove’…This one was rather fun to write.

 

Sparse 

 

I realise there’s a lot riding

on these delicate feathers,

but what few of you get

 – well, those few that are left –

is how hard it is to remain

this pure, white and pristine

during a global apocalypse.

 

It’s quite a few furlongs

across the flotsam and jetsam

of what you fondly thought of

as civilisation. (That’s not to mention

those without arks, without wings

this untainted, who floated

a surprising distance.)

 

There it is, the biggest bit of the buoyant

detritus of sin. No idea where to begin

their journey without destination.

And I’m meant to saunter over

on these tattered scroll wings

to deposit what feels to me

like a while bloody tree.

Just so that you know

you’ve got somewhere to go?

 

Well it’s that, or my nest.

And that’s close. So close.

Just a light breeze away

in one of the groves.

And they’re quiet. Quite silent,

but for the coo-ing of neighbours,

an occasional flurry of lambs.

 

No people here. No bickering.

No predators, or preying.

Just us prey. It’d be very easy

to stay. Avoid that murky water.

 

It’s a very long way over there.

A very long way.