Nothing of Note Here

Nothing of note here, no tragic melt of a skin

splayed across the pavement, a six-o'clock lead

to bleed into the shuttered senses

the rubber necks barely twist

before moving on

up ahead a siren wail

beckons

another encounter with

life's dark matters

Ken e Bujold

Reviews

[Rafia Anjum]

wow so touching,
lovely poem.

[softlyfall]

it is human nature to want to look. I think it is a matter of dialectical perspectives both broadening and sharpening our vision and understanding. The dark defines the light, and vice versa, and neither can exist independently. We need the darkness to see the light

[Chris Shaw]

Rubber necks remind me how in my part of the world, traffic almost comes to a standstill on the motorway as people slow down to view the carnage of a crash. Why do they do that? And sirens always spell trouble. A prison break out usually. You made me reflect on human behaviour with this short piece Ken and how we can be drawn towards dark matters. I found plenty here.

Chris

Chris

[Ken e Bujold]

thats what it means here too, the need for impending tragedy. Here sirens more likely to mean shooting than prison break (LOL) thanks for stopping by Chris