Talk about not knowing where something came from. I was halfway through a poem that could not be more different from what is below. I wasn’t happy with the content, although I liked the idea, so I put it aside. I was minding my own business, watching the Olympics, when this started arriving in my brain. Don’t ask. I have no idea what subconscious cell decided to surface and present itself in vaguely poetic form.
Those who settle in the Channel Islands
discover a rough and wayward history, where islanders
long avoided falling prey to attack, by knowing who held the ball,
with a robust outlook on whom to swing their allegiance behind,
tilting back and forth in a sometime strange, sometime sublime, frenzy
to keep life as they knew it – channeled
between two countries.
Thank you, Brenda, for an ever delightful, always challenging, source and resource. The latest words can be found at The Whirl, along with links to what others have written.