Wind, whistling wildly across the twinkling, resident parking lot sky
The door clatters; dark gathers a mist of dawns
The hoppers are grassing nervously; scampering, tapping.
Cling, clang the windows and doors are banging
Tumultuous, turning; the arcade is burning
With dreams of muchness
Sea shore waves crashing
Onwards as the clouds muster
Atmosphere acid sharp gut wrenching awareness gathering
The boy watches the night sky close in
Smelling stillness with pores of skin vibrating
Hairs in places stiffly sticking; launching spiked seconds tickling,
Story telling memories sickening.
A baby cries colic grief.
The moth settles into light shade madness fluttering, jingling, shades of cover
Machine cogs clash in distant horizon looming, stripes of mystery marching.
Step down to path
Lean into sound of hearth, scraping the ashes of childhoods glass shards breaking.
Fathers’ absent, flown to desert sands; distant, driven.
No comfort, less alone and frightened.
The rain starts pouring and stones harder smashing screens of apprehension.
Light like flash camera smarts the limelight,
CRASH! BANG! The noise, terrifying beauty, sharp trees of electric intention, earth bound forking,
Rumble forefront shaking shutters with gusts rolling: trust; morning to come
Then calm cool fresh gentle rustling breeze.
Morning Sun and flutter birds expertise
As if nothing had happened
Cold to warm in bed
The boy at last sleeps