Saturday August 15th, 2015

The exercise:

Write a four line poem about: the apocalypse.

The highway was open this morning, so I was able to make it through to attend the farmers market with Rebecca and her boyfriend Juan. Though the fire was certainly rather close to the road in places:

The market itself went fairly well. We sold 8 out of the 9 crates of peaches, 8 of the 10 crates of Gala apples, all the corn (there were maybe 3.5 crates on the truck), all the berries (only 6 pints between the blackberries and raspberries), and various amounts of other things.

It was Rebecca's last market with us, as sadly she'll be returning to Vancouver on Tuesday. She's been great company, a big help, and I know Max is going to miss having her around. There's been talk of her coming back next summer, so we'll keep our fingers crossed on that working out.


It is the end of days
As hell has come to call;
It is all over now -
That's it, no more, that's all.


Greg said...

That's a good picture, and it looks like it was taken while you were moving too! I imagine that the people in the house at the foot of the hill are unimpressed with the proximity of the fire though.
Well done on the market, it looks like the fires aren't deterring the buyers at least, and I'm glad you got home and weren't stranded there.
Your poem is a little final, but I can see where you're coming from with it and... well, if I had any sympathy I'd sympathise :)

The apocalypse
The dead have stood up and are dancing,
Waving to us. Docker's ships go
Past like they're fleeing the present,
Well they are; it's apocalypso!

Marc said...

Greg - yeah, I didn't bother stopping the truck so it took a few tries to get anything usable :P

Hah, that's quite the imagery in your poem. I like it!