There I sat at Copper’s Point
My head lowered between my tattered brown britches’ knees.
My shift was over, (barefoot) watching that lonely lighthouse,
sandy beige, the same color as my beach hat,
and then, on the windiest day in September,
Zoo. A delicately conscientious zookeeper’s assistant,
those sunny days, wild you could say.
I ran from cage to cage, feeding–
tigers, orangutans, monarch butterflies,
all waiting for the feast
which they got.
The team of cheerleaders,
the mist-machines cooled
their cheery faces, sweaty
and sentimentally proportioned.
I once gave a rose to one
but was shot down.
A thousand thoughts collected into one emotion:
that disparaged rejection.
I knew it only too well.
The hell, sometimes grieving
sometimes relieving me of the boy
I was meant to be.
And then, there she was.
was her name, and no rose for her,
not yet anyway.
This time a cool chat
relieving me of my duties.
I could go into detail.
But suffice it to say,
all the animals reveled in harmony
oh, the romantics would not have thought
of a more eloquent combination of words to describe it.
She died yesterday,
And now I reside in this lighthouse
where we stood alone, and outside the window
I cast a view
the “Blue” that is everywhere around me.
Bio: Eric Mellen is a young freelance writer who currently writes poems and short stories. He has been published by Nostrovia! poetry and is currently pursuing multiple publishing opportunities. When he is not writing, he is studying to under the psychology curriculum, and plans to one day become a clinical psychologist.