Paradoxical Serendipity

a motorbike howls
tempest of smoke-smog
billowing loud
drowning out birdsong
clouding neighbourhood sunlight
swallowing weekend’s gaity
in ignoble protest


but there’s something there
it yanks blood ties untested
unravels memories felt
(not remembered)
this disturbance of the peace
cradles my childhood
like buttercup yellow
bright, innocent
precarious at road’s edge
tumbles me into thoughts
I had lost
sought these 30 years

Where is the nobility in this dream?

Building something out of a mix of overly-poetic and everyday words for NaPoWriMo day 24 prompt.


2 thoughts on “Paradoxical Serendipity

  1. “A motorbike howls/tempest”–yes, exactly like that. One of the banes of spring/summer life. I love these lines, “this disturbance of the peace/cradles my childhood” and how the second stanza goes deeper, searching through the noise.

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