The Admiral in Town
The admiration of the little town is filled with goose pimples dancing in the ground, the wheat is mingling with the tares and bullets are flying in the air. The wind is swirling in the ground, and it is sweeping a toxic energy everywhere and it is wrapping its tail around the garden palm and the center of the eye is penetrating the apple tree. It is skipping from branch to branch spreading a message that nobody wants to hear but it has certainly cleared the air, but it leaves the town in much despair. They have to wear a brand new shoe, and will have to learn how to talk anew.
The eye keeps moving around the town, and the minstrel is dancing like a clown. The vigil has broken out in the street shouting messages that are very deep. The feeling is so profound that it thrust the people to the ground and send on the run, some hiding in holes other hiding in caves and others are crying but it is too late.
I have done all that I can do, but their stomach keeps growing and their voices keeps bellowing. I waited for my turn but I can just feel my spirit and my Adrenalin running a hundred degree way beyond my tolerance limit but suddenly the rain began to fall, and it brought everyone underneath the forbidden tent.
We have all gathered underneath the tent reminiscing the dead. Enemies and friend, those that attacked me, and those that cursed me gather together to shelter from the rain beside me. I can feel their conscience burning and fear of the unknown flaring. We docked on boarded stalls up stalls in dilapidated backyard right outside the commercial bank parking lot. The rain is coming down and everyone is walking around with a frown hoping that the rain would not spoil their Friday evening shopping and fried chicken jamboree. And here I am trapped in the middle of it. With my laptop computer elevated on a cardboard box with the wooden box laughing on top.
The admiral is cleaning up the town, and the message is just sinking in the ground, and the people are getting ready to move in. The game is moving from their head, and reality is showing up into their bed. The days and nights are getting shorter, and the admiral has finally got the job done and I could safely leave the town.
Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2021
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