Wednesday, May 22, 2024

A Quiet Moth

 


Photo compliments of Linnea Tighe

Have you seen a quiet moth,

Close to where the oceans froth 

 

Lying still upon the sand

And why here has it chose to land

 

It could have picked a tall green tree

And flown away so easily.

 

Colored wings spread so wide

Surely it could rise and fly

 

I know that I too could fly

Or sit upon the sand to die

 

Ah, the choices, ah, the time

That flutters past, both yours and mine

 

And then the moth took to the wing

And soared aloft, a beautiful thing.

 

Oh, the courage and the thrill

Makes my heart soar. Always will.

 

 

 

Tuesday, May 21, 2024

THE BODY ON THE BEACH

                                           The Body on the Beach



The Body on the Beach

 

It was a bright sunny day on Lepitor Beach, the surf lapping gently. The beach almost deserted, except for a lone man lying down a hundred yards away, which caught Edna Lustski’s attention. She stood in the sun next to the red tent that was large enough to hold a dozen sun lovers and their dogs and kids.  But today there was only her husband, Mr. Lustski, plus their ancient dog, Rex.

 

Edna, wearing a straw hat and a bikini that had lost all hope of ever looking sexy on her darkly tanned, greatly wrinkled body. She squinted and put an equally wrinkled hand across her brow for a better squint.  She extending a thin arm and pointing a boney finger.  “Arnold, I think that man over there is dead! He hasn’t moved!”

 

Her husband continued to lie on his back, eyes closed, his ponderous belly making a mockery of his Speedo trunks. “He’s probably just sleeping.  Look my way. I’ll show you how it’s done.”  Rex the Ancient, lying beside him didn’t move.  Long ago, Rex was a championship barker, but these days he found it was not worth the trouble.  He did open one eye then quickly closed it.

 

“Arnold!  I tell you that man is dead!”

 

“He probably saw you staring and is playing dead. Anyway, how in hell would you know at this distance?”

 

“Well, how would you know without opening your eyes.” Frustration festered.

 

“Go closer and give him a kiss.  If he doesn’t scream and race to drown himself you’ll know for sure he’s dead.”

 

“Man lying in this sun, with no sunglasses or umbrella?  Impossible!” Edna walked the beach in the man’s direction, leaving tracks in the sand. Slowly. Then slowed her pace even more, like a woman not ready to go on her final date with Jesus.  She got closer, then closer until she was standing over the man. He was lying on a dark blue beach towel, not moving, her straw sun hat casting a shadow across his chest.  His eyes were closed, his mouth partially open, the hairs on his chest blowing slightly in the gentle breeze, his bald head a roasty brown.

 

She nudged him with a thick, yellowish big toenail poking out the front of her sand-colored beach sandals. He didn’t move. Well, maybe he did. Maybe not. Didn’t look like he was breathing, but with her sun glasses on….. She nudged him harder, more like an unfriendly kick in the ribs.

 

The man’s eyes flew open!  He rolled toward her and gripped her leg like a steel vice.

 

Her hand went to her mouth as she sucked in enough air to fill a balloon, and fell back onto the hot sand and appeared to have stopped breathing.

 

The man knelt and put an ear to Edna’s mouth, then jumped to his feet and yelled for help.  “I think this woman is dead! Somebody help!”

 

Mr. lustski stayed on his back, eyes still closed, and yelled, “How can you tell?”

 

Rex didn’t move either.