Mercurial Clew Bay

Mercurial Clew Bay
© Surazeus
2024 12 25

Gray catbird hopping on the sandy shore 
always chats with the stop sign outside town 
near where old Finn Craig with the turtle beard 
repairs cars in greasy red-brick garage, 
and thinks about Sheila back in high school 
who models dresses for store catalogs. 

Except for how wind rattles the stop sign 
late evenings in blue glow of loneliness, 
he never tries to think about the way 
the holy spirit moves things with no soul, 
not to prove eyeless rocks have consciousness, 
yet tightens the bolt with the monkey wrench. 

Smooth purr of engines, lithe with cheetah grace, 
calms anxious passion of rainbows in oil 
forming pools in asphalt of rancid thoughts 
that fail to reflect beauty of the sky 
where someone with no supernatural eye 
always seems to be watching how he lives. 

The orange cat, with purple eyes that can see 
eternity, lounges with casual pride 
under blinking lights of the Christmas tree 
with gaze that dares him just to try and hide 
his naked ambition to rule the world 
as incarnation of the cosmic herald. 

Sapphire waters of mercurial Clew Bay 
reflect the most popular deity 
who floats just above hundreds of flat islets 
with eager faith in what smooth beach stones say 
regardless of how bright they signal light 
because no bells ring in stillness of why. 

Tall alder tree beside the trickling stream 
explains why lovers sometimes misunderstand 
innocent passion for heartless neglect, 
so Finn lounges in grass of timeless trust 
to hear what the green water wants to say 
since they have been friends twenty thousand years. 

Surprised when Patrick swings bat at his face, 
Finn ducks and punches him hard in the nose, 
so they sit awkwardly on the stream shore 
to think about the reason they must fight 
while the gray catbird in the alder chirps 
with laughter at their pointless rivalry. 

Sheila glides down the stream in rowing boat, 
then beckons both to board with angry glare, 
so they talk about nothing as the current 
swirls them out onto mercurial Clew Bay 
where they admit that everything is wrong, 
and nothing can be done but calmly fish.