Gray Funk
Alone, I sit cross-legged on the shore of this small lake watching the swans that paddle a slight distance away. On any other day they might cast a brilliant white reflection on a pool of blue, but in the gloomy atmosphere of an overcast day they seem little more than gray shadows on a darkened field. Two of them seem to patrol, as if on guard, as they move in a wide circle around the others. Those gathered in the center feed on the grass that grows from the bottom as they upend themselves, as if to show just what they think about what is going on in this wretched world.
Don’t be concerned for the state I’m in. I know that the clouds will pass. So, too, will this funk that has taken hold of me. In the tender gray, I swim undisturbed.
This is my response to dVerse Prosery – On this Day: Happy December 5 Birthday Poets, the prompt from Lisa at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, where the challenge is to write a prosery, flash fiction or creative nonfiction, with a 144-word limit (here, exactly 144 words). Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. For this prompt, the line is from Sullivan County, by Celia Dropkin: “in the tender gray, I swim undisturbed”
Undisturbed for how long? I think we all feel something of your concerns. Or we ought to.
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Agreed.
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Beautiful writing, Ken. Clear and evokes the feelings. Your conclusion made me think of this song, the lyrics so Geo and the video of which always makes me smile at its cheesiness 🙂
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I know whereof you speak.
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Thank you. It’s in the air.
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You’re welcome.
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I have felt this way lately.
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It’s hard to avoid.
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It’s that time of year. (K)
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So true. My December funk goes back years, but it always takes me by surprise.
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The short days really weigh on me.
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I am struck by the opening ‘Alone’ to ‘others’ to ‘me’ and not to be concerned. It’s as if the birds know.
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Thank you, Paul. They do.
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It spoke clearly to me that way.
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Beautiful write. 🙂
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Thank you.
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🙂
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