Mikaela Castledine #158 Past

I saw fleet passing

from the window

flood puddling at the feet of

brushwood bushes

reflecting cloudcast sky

and the barren undersides

of insignificant twigs

and stripping bark

I felt a memory catch

with its little hooks

at that place that's just below

my throat and just above

my heart

and the salt hurt of the start

of tears stinging down

their micro channels

in half release

But there was nothing more than that

the prickling pain of memory

a swampy pool of sky patterned water

forgettable dun coloured bushes

and the tyre thrum that takes us on

until what is past is past