Mayday

[ellajam]

Hi, Chris, as I love both the tiny blue berries and one berry of a chance, I googled a bit to see if a berry might be called something else. Blue made me think of juniper and the yews I found have red berries while the junipers have blue. I am not suggesting a change of blue or yew, I'd go with the poem above google, , I'm just mentioning it because of your usual attention to detail and what I've come to know as your love for exactness. Here are some notes, I hope you will be very gentle with any edits.

Mayday

This voice takes refuge at nightfall,
mute in the dimness under the yews,
spirited away in tiny blue berries.
This line woke me up and caught me.

It's flame is concealed in the abdomens
of fireflies, smoldering with luciferase,
hovering above dew on the rye.
Love abdomens with dew on rye, makes me hungry for a fairy canape.

My imagination's secreted in a pond
beneath an algae cape, inside a cache
with timid fish among the reeds.
This sits just short of overkill for me, but works. I keep wanting "of" instead of "with", as if the cache holds both his imagination and the fish.

I need

one berry of a chance,
a single bioluminescent photon
or minnow’s musing
to nibble at my trolling lines.
Your science which sometimes jolts me works beautifully here. I like it as is.

Necessity begs illumination
to clarify this tarnished eve,
for she is slowly graying;
almost out of my view
and reach.
The end was a bit of a surprise for me. I like it, but it's tone is different from the rest, a bit of a wake up from the dream. I'm up in the air on it.

Very successful, thanks for posting it.