Mark Peterson Poet Quatrain

Blue Is Red

Concerning the News
of a Blue Whale’s Death

For thousands of years, 
came melodious song. 
Across myriad miles, 
none other so strong. 

Oh, Iceland, Oh Iceland, 
you’ve murdered the choir. 
Blue now is red;
go wade in the mire. 

Teach all your sons
why water is mute. 
How you ended it all
by learning to shoot. 

Evanescent the pleasure,
you’ve sated your tongue. 
Absent all need,
rather it should be dung.

This is my anguish—
unspeakable sorrow,
see hope abandoned—
farewell to tomorrow.

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Connie Marcum Wong July 23, 2018 at 3:02 AM Mark, your loving sentiment about this lovely creature is evident in this saddest of poems. Beautifully composed. A Fave for me. xxoo Mark Peterson October 16, 2018 at 12:34 AM I'm late seeing your comment. I appreciate you so much, Connie, and I'm heartened that my message resonated with you.

Lyric Man July 14, 2018 at 5:00 AM Mark, your blue has gone to red and the red is dread.. last hope! I great melancholy write! Mark Peterson July 21, 2018 at 4:51 PM Thank you, Lyric Man. I'm glad my message resonates with you.