Wednesday, 7 February 2024

One Poem by Mark Hendrickson

 



I THOUGHT, I SAW

 

I thought them spiders, tiny and black,

ballooning on gossamer strands through the air;

just seasonal, natural, harmless things,

a fear it is fun to share with friends.

 

I thought them crows, swooping down from the skies

in formation, following one by one;

or manna from heaven, sent by the Father

a blessing from Christ to share with friends.

 

I thought it a troop, a troop of mushrooms,

too ordered and regular to be called gregarious:

rows and rows of fertile fungus,

the type you harvest and share with friends.

 

I thought it a trail, or perhaps a road,

pedestrians walking in the rain,

umbrellas raised to ward off the water:

a crowd of strangers, a group of friends.

 

I thought it a river, flowing down from the mountains:

wave upon wave, a deluge a flood;

higher and higher the waters rising,

we ran for the hills with our neighbors and friends.

 

I saw an invasion, battalions of soldiers

parachute down and spread out on the road;

rank upon rank of them, blood at the front,

we fled and we died with our families and friends.

 

I saw a dark painting: black, green, and yellow.

I saw a dark headline, the prelude to war.

I wrote a dark poem that tells a dark story

for people to share with their family and friends.





Mark Hendrickson is a poet and writer in the Des Moines area.  A 2023 Best of the Net and Pushcart nominee, his work has appeared or is forthcoming in Prose OnlineFive MinutesSynkroniciti, Swing, Lothlorien, and others. Mark worked for many years as a mental health technician in a locked psychiatric unit. His background includes music, healthcare, and psychology. Visit his website at: www.markhendricksonpoetry.com,


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