The exercise:
Write about something that is: green.
We had local order pickup this afternoon but I didn't have to do too much work, as we're almost finished with berries. Didn't even put them on the list, actually, but we had a customer who wasn't around last weekend who wanted blackberries so we got her some, plus we had a favorite farmers market customer come down from Penticton so we got her some raspberries because we know how much she loves them.
Other than that it was just weighing up peaches, nectarines, and apples and then waiting for customers to arrive.
Or not arrive, as the case may be.
Only one this week. Still one more than I want to deal with. Hopefully she's coming tomorrow to get her stuff though.
Mine:
It's mine.
Don't you think otherwise.
Back off!
Take your eyes off my prize.
It's clear
For everyone to see:
That girl
Is coming home with me.
2 comments:
Ah, so it pays to be a good, reliable customer then, when berry-season is almost over? Well done on only having the one no-show; do they ever let you know they can't make it, or do you have to chase them about it?
This is clearly a poem intended to be performed, and I'd like to see that! I like the declarative style of the lines, the way you alternate the lengths, and I can feel the aggressiveness coming through. The only question I have is... how does it relate to "Green"?
Green
The waves rocked the boat gently, but it was enough of a reminder to the fisherman that there was a storm coming. He looked down at the catch, and picked up the next fish. His knife, grey steel glistening through the red and black of fish guts, slit open another belly and the honking of the wild geese seemed to be more intense again.
"You didn't swim," he said abruptly, looking down.
"I flew," said Miss Hood. She lifted her hand holding the cloak and then let it drop again. "The cloak will work if you know how to use it."
"...she always said it would only work for her," he said. "I asked her how it worked for children. Were they born with it, like? She just laughed."
"It probably wouldn't have worked for you." There was a hint of sadness in Miss Hood's voice. "It helps a lot to be a woman, but...."
"There's more?" The knife worked automatically; slicing open fish bellies and scraping out their guts. His hands, cold and stiff, swept the guts into the water.
"Yes."
In the silence that followed the honking of the wild geese finally subsided and the wind splashed the waves into a fine spray of saltwater that made their eyes redden and itch. The last of the fish was tossed into a bucket, topped up with sea-water, and he rinsed his hands off with more. Then he hauled in the anchor. As it pulled free of the bottom the boat shuddered and started to move, and Miss Hood moved to the ropes, tightening the sail.
"You sail?"
"I learned how."
"Not so green as you look then."
Lightning split the clouds above them and a heavy spatter of rain fell. They stared at each other, dark eyes connecting briefly, and then the rain started in earnest. The fisherman pulled a heavy oilcloth coat from a locker and Miss Hood put her hood up. Light shimmered around her, a bare centimetre of yellow luminance as though she was holding a candle in a dark room, and the rain didn't touch her.
"Witch?" said the fisherman. There was bitterness in his voice.
"Hunter," said Miss Hood. "Avenger. Righter of Wrongs."
"Better than everyone else?"
There was a howl of laughter that seemed to fit the growing tempest well. "Perhaps I should have said Servant first," she said. "I'm not doing this for me, I'm doing it for everyone else."
The wind ripped his words away next, so she never heard them. "That's what the goose-girl said."
Greg - yes, it does :)
Rarely they let us know. Mostly we end up chasing them. If we can be bothered (if the order is small... eh).
I was going for 'green with envy' but I might have missed my mark a bit.
Such great atmosphere here. And yes, I am glad you've continued this already and yes, I am still looking forward to more. I am intrigued by this goose-girl.
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