direction of travel (30/6/24)

fireworks ignited the sky
spraying images that no one could read
trails of hesitation
punctuated
by out of tune bangs
they hang for what
seems like forever
then gone as though
they were never there,
leaving a black
more inky with lack
as though the night
had taken fright
and fallen
in
on
itself,
meanwhile,
eyes retain the aftermath
ashen remains
held in memory
riddled with sensory
overload,
silence accompanied
silence
with anticipation
pulling at threads
in hope to unravel
the direction of travel
to relive a moment
which lasted
no more more than it had,
the distance becoming
ever more distant
temptation provoking
something,
much more resistant,
afterthoughts float
encouraged to gloat
then fall like rocks
back down to earth,
gravity’s curse,
witness a birth
looking not seeing
all that it’s worth,
a flash in the pan
a blink
and it’s gone,
expecting an answer
that won’t ever come,
the sky’s returned
to sender.

© 2024 robert greig