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BERRY ADAMS
by Nicki Benson "Berry Adams was late the first day. Wasn't far, just a daydream away." |
The last astronaut stood on the steps of the court. The one who would write all this down.
Tambourine Day, they called it.
“Get into the Galley Shop,” one of them had told him. “Hop into a hotel bar, hidden in a marching band.”
“At the foot of the Rye,” another had called out. “Where the city wall ends and the angels descend.”
Berry Adams watched the crowd move towards the river. They broke into song. The Bridge Street step was on.
“Dulcet is the click and fizz,” he heard them chant. “Fine beyond compare.”
“Still the Thames flows softly,” a voice whispered on the breeze. “Bridge by bridge we cross thee.”
Male or female, there was no way for him to tell. And there never would be, not here.
Berry thought back to the first words they had spoken to him.
“Taken from a grey sky. What name are you known by?”
“Come gather and share. Come exchange and repair.”
And the reply he had made, not yet understanding what these people were.
And their laughter. Their joy.
Berry Adams, who dropped the key by the apple tree because there was a world to see.
Berry Adams, who didn’t know where the next sun would set.
Berry Adams, the last astronaut on the steps of the court.
'Berry Adams' http://youtu.be/Iq_INthla2Y
'Bobby's Court' http://youtu.be/pi99i9lklkg
Close your eyes. Go to glide time.
