Sunday, October 16, 2011

Early Morning Quiet

A Magpie Tale

Still autumn morning, no warning
Of winter’s coming. The swelling
Light thrumming through the trees
Gives me pause to implore
of you these queries, though they might
prove wearying, ere the end:

How will you spend this day?
Will you acknowledge what is:
A world turning over glowing coals,
Slowly burning on its spit?
A pit of despair for so many…
A mortal sphere on which any and all
Are doomed to fall as surely as ash
And rubble? Or can it be your bubble
Has not yet burst, that you do not feel
The thirst?  “Do you fear death?”
Does its foul breath make you run
And hide inside, where you hoard,
Good Lord, as if it will make
A difference…as if you can take any
Of this with you?  What will you do
When the end comes?  No pile of petty
Cash, much less a Swiss stash, can slow
The reaper…no, that old creeper
Will collect his due…including
You and me.  But, you see there is another
Way to start each day: rather than spend
Your energy as if this is the end, please
Consider that it may be a new beginning…
Do not sing of final nights, with darkness
Falling, but one long day, and this
Be our morning, “quite early morning!”

Besides, should the zombie apocalypse
Arrive, swept along on ghoulish tides,
This gimpy, lumpy, grumpy Puck
Will surely be a dead, dead duck.

For more takes on this Magpie prompt, go here!

Credit also must be given to Pete Seeger, whose rendering of "Quite Early Morning" continues to inspire.


christopher said...

Nothing like lynched ducks to create a philosophy...

Carolina Linthead said...

This is what happens when a midsummer night's dreamer meets Magpie Tales, yes :-)

Tess Kincaid said...

Profound autumnal thoughts...always a treat when you contribute to Magpie, Dr. Linthead...

NCmountainwoman said...

I really like this one.

JeannetteLS said...

Dr. Linthead... such a marvelous meandering to get to the dead, dead duck. Just found your blog. I really enjoy this. I am not a poet, but sometimes, reading Tess, several other writers' works, now you?

Well. We'll see. Perhaps one day. In the meantime, this is a voyeurism I love.

Other Mary said...

Good one - really like your rhyme and word-play.

Brian Miller said...

ha its been far too long since i was over the route you take to get to where you are going...wordplay is a fav of mine so you fit the bill...not duck bill that is...

Tumblewords: said...

An unnerving trek to the dead, dead duck. Provocative and delightful.

Margaret said...

What will you do
When the end comes? No pile of petty
Cash, much less a Swiss stash, can slow
The reaper…no, that old creeper
Will collect his due

And the last stanza is amazing... I have an 18 year old son who has been telling me for years the zombie apocalypse is coming... :)

Carolina Linthead said...

Shakespeare and zombies it is, Margaret!

Nicholas V. said...

Excellent take on this Magpie. I enjoyed your poem very much.

Morning said...

quite amazing...

Isabel Doyle said...

methinks the duck was an afterthought?

a fine poem and philosophy
but as they say in the East - what to do lah?

Arnab Majumdar said...

What ways in which a dead duck can inspire... I'm amazed :)

Arnab Majumdar on

Trellissimo said...

Zombie apocalypse, indeed! LOL

Glenn Buttkus said...

Like the lad at the Ball
who suddenly discovered
he could play the piano,
you are leaping here into
the depths of poetics, and
it is a strong leap. Nice
to party with you, and
I like the way your mind