Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2018
Munkh Khukh Tengri
The Eternal Blue Sky
as the great Kublai Khan
might have said once upon a time.

No offense intended, mind you
but I sure saw a whole mess of them
go flying by today on their way to
wherever it is that those free cheap
FEMA blue tarps go to die.

You know, the ones they gave away
to poor folks after Hurricane Florence
paid us a visit, oh, maybe a month or so
ago to this very day, to cover the holes
in the tops of their homes while waiting
for that great hope, the check in the mail.

It sure was a cool sight, on such a gray day
all that blue taking flight, like a flock of...
what?  Are there any blue birds that flock?
I’m not sure, not the big Blue Jay, the Big
Blue of the Egret family, nor the Blue Bird
that sometimes sings inside a poet’s heart
or the Indigo Bunting, not even the Blue Gross Beaks that I see at my feeders
occasionally, so, no, not like a flock of
anything that I can think of, OK?

Oh, those pretty blue tarps flying so high
up into The Eternal Blue Sky where they
go when they die, and I know the great
Kublai Khan would have smiled today
and shouted Munkh Khukh Tengri.
Written by
Woody  In the dark woods.
(In the dark woods.)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems