The 400th Mutiny.

There was whales and shrieks upon all accord
Of the effort and
Artist’s sake to bring forth
Hope into a dying breed..

The Pure-Pursuit of the
Passion of Interest,
besieged at vague clauses.
Moments that one had to double-take.

Whispers of glances.
The awaiting number on the brochure
You’ve noticed for years.
Like gales across the vista
Of a modern-way of
Flaring the signal
To
Light the Beacon.

Messages everyday.
The Hawks 200 Years Ago led
The communication corkboard.
Set to wind and trust;
“Captors” were seen otherwise.
And somehow the global ecology
Of a once-forgotten-tale
Of the first wonder
Of what it was to print your first book, by hand.

It’s never one you wrote.
But it’s always the one to make you happy.