So Little Time
by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com
In this flash fiction\prosetry piece, I tried to picture the planet’s technology leaping ahead exponentially. As such, we may try to forget how little it takes for simple and intimate happiness. (Image by Pinterest)
Tuesday, March 21, 2017
So Little Time
by Odin Roark
Threadbare cargo-shorts
held up by aged leather tool belt
hang limply on thin carved hips.
Resting his welding torch,
artist look skyward,
pulls welding helmet down,
eyes peer through ocean spotted lens,
solar paneled energy
sparks welding torch.
Final stringer bead makes its hot pass.
Filler pass,
cover pass,
complete.
Artist lifts helmet,
accesses the heavens again,
unchanged.
Beneath yoke of welded “diminishing wind,”
partially buried and dormant, a yellowed, dry and faded newspaper headline reads:
“Manned Spacecraft Lands On Mars- June 10, 2075.”
Pointing eastward,
like a lock of hair readying to travel,
the artist’s latest museum piece waits patiently.
Artist, the island’s sole resident, wanders over to single palm shading his century’s old colonial house.
Mail boat hydro-planes along the coast
carrying a single letter.
Tiny island shore
laps idly, for now.
Dolphins cease jumping.
Flotsam hugs wet sands.
Approaching rapidly…
Menace rides the wind,
Hover-craft arrives,
mini-hover comes ashore,
robotic arm delivers letter.
Artist sits, stares at envelope
The sea suddenly sounds weary.
Seagull lands on sculpture.
Lifts one leg,
drops its white calling card,
flies away.
Artist smiles.
Pet giant tortoise lumbers up,
settles beside artist.
Head peeks,
retreats,
waits.
From pocket,
artist pulls dried fruit treat,
lays in front of shell.
Glancing back at envelope’s embossed letter head,
”Fathoms Down Collider Project,”
he opens,
reads,
utters notice,
“Tsunami Alert – Deep Ocean Testing to begin on September 23rd.”
Artist looks over at turtle, “That’s tomorrow.”
Eyes lift to delicate sculpture,
then out to sea and mumbles to himself,
“We’re given so little time.”
Mail boat passes round to other side of island.
A crumbling ancient church stands isolated on shore.
Weathered tombstones huddle close.
Wind continuing its sandstone erosion of long ago markers.
Robotic sensors pick up unknown trembling among the tilting stones.
Robotic camera digitizes movement for government archives.
Love ya!
Jane
Ron