157/365: Poor Consolation

Thursday bore in,
furious and worried.
It ate through its morning
like a hungry rat.

I went for walk
to look for courage and solace,
shoved my bare feet into rubber boots
and pointed a camera at whatever didn't depress me.
I found a duck dragging its wing and thought
Fuck, the world is not a friendly element,
and I turned to point my lens
at the nearest, greenest thing.

I cannot appreciate being alive
by not being that damn duck,
and I'm tired of the consolation.

#365poems at Schmutzie.com