Sunday, 8 April 2012

Day 8 - The note

High  above the city lights
floating on an updraft,
a once discarded paper note
spinning in the wind.

Bathed in halogen
from twenty million lamps
it makes its journey through
the musky air.
An air fragrant with the lives of 8 million hurried busy souls.

A lull as the wind becomes a zephyr
brings it gently down onto a crenellated rooftop.
Just one from hundreds and thousands of rooftops.
The real number not the coloured candy pieces found on cakes and trifles
that dissapoint you the first time you discover there are only 84.

this rooftop crowns an elongated house squashed between two others
like a book forced into an already full shelf.

It pauses there as it takes a breath while traffic whirls around.

And in the house asleep
dreaming dreams of many things
a single person rests.

The wind picks up again
and the note tries to move on.
But it can't.
it's trapped between two green ceramic tiles.

The person wakes
the sleeping breath changes in an instant to a gasp.
As a sudden realisation of the interconnectdness of the cosmos
And in that gasp all is made clear.

They fall asleep again
And in the morning wake without remembrance
of what went on the night before

As we all do.

1 comment:

  1. I like this the best so far. Especially the comment about hundreds and thousands'. Ket