Listening non-stop to old melodies
dredged up from clogged memories of childhood,
frayed satin ribbons, pressed flowers in scrapbooks,
caught in folds of pages, in an obscure crease
of time and place. Reminiscent of things
I hardly think about now, the drizzle
of sunlight through leaves, long-tailed kites, and whistles,
wide open skies, gentle lands, and landings.
Halfway across the world, streets, towns convulse -
someone, something has fallen, crashed again,
the earth is slack jawed, crushed to smithereens
a lone armed man gloats at a feeble pulse.
Can't find a tune to match, something titled -‘never yours, with aversion’? Unbridled.