Tuesday Poem: Part of the Post-deluvian Water Series

Drones

Many’s the time, Luna’s spied those

hovering metal hummingbirds overhead,

or buzzing by the windows over and over,

till Sol made an ugly face and gave them

the finger. Many’s the time the two of them

were moved to head into the thickest woods,

so as not to be watched any more, pretending to

heed the hunter’s call to enter the letup of leaf cover.

When they heard, at Kin Gather, about
the young ones squatting in Hill Wagon,
all three of them nullified, where they stood,
for smuggling, and it being the same
kind of drone, Sam shook, and Luna sobbed
until she fainted. From that day on, when the
buzz come, Luna had to lie down, and Sol
made an effort to smile and flash the peace sign.