Albatross

Farewell. Great lady of the sea, your sad expression impressed against the wry wind screen, your final moment fixed within a haunting mind. One by one the family file out, dazed, yet the radiator to be checked, the headlights and paint work to be inspected, red, yellow and blue entrails to be rid of, blood to be cleared, a final polish to hide away the evidence. I switch off. From the furore, My eyes. Stray towards the hedgerow, there you hang, ensnared beneath a thorny crown, reminding me of a Sunday story long ago. Predator encircles above, soon to play his part in nature’s garbage disposal plan, a cruel mission so necessary. Yet it was only minutes ago, the heavens were yours, the lonely ocean in need of your presence, the lone sailor, bearer of sustenance in return for a moment or two. I imagine your fledgling squawking in anticipation, only then to grow slowly weaker without the means to understand, in this a harsh expansive world. “Thanks to Hollywood” Life is so cheap, even yours. Only I among five give you a second glance, so even if I had the answer, to the reasons why you’re mutilated body is there, and I am here; to whom. Do I tell it to? © Harry J Horsman 1993