I Hear Beer Cans Being Gathered

 

Some birds sing at 3am

Are they up to catch the worm

Or haven’t they been to sleep

Maybe flown in from Europe

Unaware of the time

Ahead or behind

Wondering where the sun could be

Are we in Scandinavia here or there

No should be much colder

Interesting creatures of the night as it is

Who knew it would be so

Like mermaids so beautiful to a sailors’ eye

But hissing like a snake

Take down the ship to debris

A cobra before it strikes then certain death

Innocent though they look

Gaze into their eyes

May be the last you see

 

 

Wouldn’t you know it! In Other Words: Tents

 

 

Agon came home with an open tent, the kind a small revival could be held in, as protection for his statues. He went about his business assembling carefully positioning branches for protection of the fabric but this time in silence. The only reason he glanced at them was to determine the angle of the drape and height. As he’d done before he stepped back and spoke almost absent-mindedly, “I wanted it intimate like silk over a boudoir bed as it keeps the sun off you. Comfortable?” With a glazed expression he looked in their direction for a moment then left again. Natalie got a chill and her stomach turned at the ominousness of his words. “Boudoir bed? Isn’t that the same thing? Boudoir. Oh man. But there’s just no emotion when he speaks. What could happen to us? What is going to happen to us? Geezus!” Natalie saw Astrid’s arm was lower than before. Her heart throbbing calmed. “He didn’t notice. Thank-you. He didn’t notice.” The weather had been predicted as sunny, upper 70s. “The sun can still be our friend. If I could move…”