#270 ~ The Return

As hail streamed thunderous fingers against the temple

of tarmac stained streets,

dotted lines smeared with yellow streaks

as though an unhappy child had wrenched stubby fingers

down the black sheet of sugar paper

which pointed the way down the smooth roads of

my hometown,

I stepped back into its embrace, the anterior of

the temple of my unfamiliar familiar.

The groove in the dashboard,

the elusive gear lock no longer existed

but the hum of petrol, and the cloak of mist still persisted.

I was home, but far away from home.

From the pulse of blood-red soil which

jingled and jived through livingroom stereos.

The bond had been drawn taut, yet now it hung slack,

loose, a faint, fraying rope that had twisted

into the crevices of pumping cardiac chambers.

I was deep within the temple of my unfamiliar familiar,

yet now,

I needed to return, and turn, towards the memories, to re-create,

to create a very present reality.


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One thought on “#270 ~ The Return

  1. bridginghope says:

    love this. love you. Be strong.

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