One minute, swimmin’ around, next comes that darned osprey….or, fisher of fish..

Glad I’m Not That Fish by Barbara Helvey Hughes
 
WOW!  An osprey just flew low in front of the car, its
talons clutching a silver, wiggling fish, as I drive
across the three bridge causeway over turquoise water.
 
After the 2008 ‘housing market crash’ the car
broke and cost a cool thousand to fix, food
prices jumped after the slide and we’re broke
so, most days, it’s Cheerios for dinner.
Banks sprint toward failure and the stock
market crash keeps crashing, leaving many of
us with no money for mortgages and bills and
no retirement, but what the hell….. a storm’s
brewing off the coast and it promises to be a
whopper.  We’ve got the house for sale, but
all the houses are for sale. Our health
insurance hit thirty-two thousand a year and
that’s most of what we make: we’re hanging on
by the skin of our teeth – I never knew teeth have
skin.  America cries, like some lost child whose
favourite toy has broken.  We await DOOM.
 
All the network news anchors and opinion givers
spew negativity, and it’s not news, no,
something ‘new’ called pundits and commentaries and
anything but reporting what has happened, so we hear
observations or some know-it-all’s interpretation of, what?
Their thoughts moor, tethered to the negative and
those vibes simply feed the growing cancer of….
 
WOW!  An osprey just flew low, in front of the car, its
talons clutching a silver, wiggling fish, as I drive
across the three-bridge causeway over turquoise water.
 
It gives me pause.  Redirects my thinking:
 
I’m glad I’m not that fish.
 
 
4-15-2020/7-14-2020