Wild Season

Wild season

You sit, waiting for the Sun to die

So crazy is the wind,
In its madness it stole your wooden spoon
and with manic laughter threw it across the pier boarding

In defiance you swirled your finger
in the peppered chocolate sprinkles
of your cappuccino
and licked it clean.
A slight stinging on your tongue
reminiscent of the chillies
you were cutting this Friday afternoon

The announcement had only been posted on Facebook
a moment after you had seated yourself on the plastic, cold, comfortable chair
Outside the resurrected restaurant
made clean and pristine
After arson had tried to burn away its beating heart

Ironic, that two months after rebuilding
The pier is witness to the world ending
with the going down of the sun

The same day they celebrated
100 years of dying at the Somme

You sit waiting for the sun to die
And now the wailing has started
sounding from open windows scattered on the seafront.
The end has been announced officially
on mainstream news
BBC, ITV, Sky, RT
All for once in agreement
without bias
without political accruement

“Get yourself prepared
Contact distant loved ones
while the networks are still connected
Contact your Gods
While they can still listen to your confessions

Eat, drink and be merry
For in moments you will die
And Eastenders will be terminated
Along with the Great British Bake-off
And Claudia Schiffer”

At least you can make amends with your neighbour
who chose to leave while you remained
It doesn’t matter now
Europe can’t defend you
from the dying of the Sun

“We only found out an hour ago”
the military, NASA, MI5, NSA
Plaintively cry
“Despite the billions we spent
On monitoring cosmic weather
At the expense of the poor
We weren’t tuned in
To hear the threnody
of our solar god”

Your good friend is sitting opposite you
on an identical plastic, cold, comfortable chair
Drinking his Americano
and staring into the wilds of the sea
Waiting for the sun to die

You smile
“This is the best way” you murmur
into the last remnants of froth
He looks at you and shrugs.
“What else would I be doing anyway on a Friday evening?
Except waiting for the sun….”
“….to die”, you finish

And then, so does your world.

-----

A poem by my great friend,   that inspired this.

The subject is our favourite - the end of the world

Initially it was going to be a tough one; how to depict the sun dying from the view of our planet?

Then I remembered Star Trek: Generations, on their depiction of a dying star; I then added aurora borealis to the mix and then all the other elements fell into place.

I followed the poem and added a slight bit of humour on the tablet - the birds, inspired by The Day After Tomorrow and 2012.

Enjoy!