Virginia lady, golden hair (A poem)

I woke this morning to the news that a journalist had been murdered along with her camera man. Sleepy, I scrolled through facebook media and ran across the video of the moment the camera man was shot, and the woman fled.

I found out later her name was Alison Parker, 24 years old. And her cameraman, Adam Ward, 27.  Both engaged. Both just starting life as they worked for WBDJ in Virginia.

And I railed against gun violence today on social media. Called out the hypocrisy of certain political figures and so on….I think the poignancy of today was America saw her final moments. She died, afraid.  And I wept.

So, i did what I know to do. The only thing I know to do these days. I wrote something for her called, Virginia Lady, Golden Hair. It’ll be a way for my poor helpless ADHD mind to remember her when I go to the ballot box.

I never knew your name before today
Sweet woman of the east
But I saw your candle flicker in an intimate moment
Before your soul departed beyond the strength of mere mortal reach

Virginia lady, golden corn silk tresses
A smile like the five o’clock sun
your soul shook the floor of my human condition
When what was said was said and what was done was done

Dear sweet beautiful lady
Oh how I want to have not learned your name
Yet You enchanted me in mere seconds
Brief breathless moments
And I wept for you just the same

Virginia ,they say, is for lovers
A state named once for a Queen
But the heavens tonight are weeping, unfettered
For the Golden haired beauty lost to the night
And the Royal you might have been.

(Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.)

Rest in Peace Adam and Alison. And to the family and friends of theirs, my deepest heartfelt condolences. America is here with you. God Bless.

F.E.

I bow my head to the sea (poem)

I come to the sea at night
The sun  purple remnants in the west
I  smell the sand, golden, warm from the day
I taste the salt, brine on my tongue

wisps on the air

A thinly restrained chaos
to which civilization bends its knee
as the waves rushing passed each other
In foamy crests which lay down and then pull back

as it has done

for an eternity

I stand there at that brink
at the cool knife’s edge where water and sand meet
Arms splayed outward, an arrogant kite
Ready to be taken

I can hear the roar,  the power of wind and surf

wondering at its leagues and depths as forward it rolls

waking to the sheer power of its majesty

a place where giant beasts call home

in it’s cold, dark fathoms,

where ships lay strewn on silty sandy floors, forgotten,

it lays down and then pulls backward

the cool sand at my feet collapses

as if she means

to take me away as if I never was

I falter, my arms lower
Clasping hands come together

sheepish

of my insolence, arrogance, and infinitesimal might

my face colours
I bow my head to mother, I bow my head to the sea