The Sounds of Geriatric Whales Sonaring Towards Distant Shores

Another summer crawls towards its end. The rising moon sighs, its old silver bones creak and pop, splinter off into dying stars. Crickets tune for funeral dirges. Fireflies flash SOSs that drunk teenagers cruising the streets mistake for lights from faraway raves. The echoed hum of passing carnival trucks sounds like geriatric whales slowly sonaring towards distant shores. The rest of us sit at home, mark still another day off the calendar. We recall a time when we couldn’t remember, let alone pronounce the months of the year. And how hurt we feel now as the years slip by, barely giving us the time of day.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s