Mayday

[ChristopherSea]

final

Mayday

My voice takes refuge at nightfall,
mute in the dimness under the yews,
ghosting in minute rouge berries.

It's a flame concealed in abdomens
of fireflies, smoldering with luciferase,
hovering above dew on the rye.

My imagination is nebulous
beneath the pond’s algal cloak,
quiescent with timid fish among the reeds.

I need

one berry of a chance,
a single bioluminescent photon
or musing minnow
to nibble at my trolling lines.

Necessity begs illumination
to clarify this tarnished eve,
for she is slowly graying;
almost out of view
and reach.

----------------------------------------------------
billy/mercedes/ella/QDS/truE edit 2

Mayday

My voice takes refuge at nightfall,
mute in the dimness under the yews,
spirited away in minute rouge berries.

It's a flame concealed in abdomens
of fireflies, smoldering with luciferase,
hovering above dew on the rye.

My imagination is nebulous beneath
the pond’s algal cloak, quiescent
with timid fish among the reeds.

I need

one berry of a chance,
a single bioluminescent photon
or musing minnow
to nibble at my trolling lines.

Necessity begs illumination
to clarify this tarnished eve,
for she is slowly graying;
almost out of view
and reach.

-----------------------------------
billy/mercedes/ella edit 1

Mayday

My voice takes refuge at nightfall,
mute in the dimness under the yews,
spirited away in tiny rouge berries.

It's flame is in the bellies of fireflies,
smoldering with luciferase,
hovering above dew on the rye.

My imagination is secreted
beneath the pond’s algal cloak
quiescent with timid fish among the reeds.

I need

one berry of a chance,
a single bioluminescent photon
or musing minnow
to nibble at my trolling lines.

Necessity begs illumination
to clarify this tarnished eve,
for she is slowly graying;
almost out of view
and reach.

-------------------------------------------------
Mayday

This voice takes refuge at nightfall,
mute in the dimness under the yews,
spirited away in tiny blue berries.

It's flame is concealed in the abdomens
of fireflies, smoldering with luciferase,
hovering above dew on the rye.

My imagination's secreted in a pond
beneath an algae cape, inside a cache
with timid fish among the reeds.

I need

one berry of a chance,
a single bioluminescent photon
or minnow’s musing
to nibble at my trolling lines.

Necessity begs illumination
to clarify this tarnished eve,
for she is slowly graying;
almost out of my view
and reach.