Image: Canva Pro

At a point of no return, love, intimacy, 
shadowed by its counterpart.

A world had been calling attention to itself, 
silent, spaced, still, stuck.

You saw it again for what it was, 
all blistered and blustered,

And some things too quiet to hear, unlike
hooves of wild horses.

The way affairs survived in a certain state,
of course, seemed miraculous.

Nothing mattered, least of all this, always something
that could be saved.

What do I know of a man’s destiny?
Only dust and fragments.

White noise followed by white noise. White noise,
who needs white noise?

9 thoughts on “Dislodged

  1. This is a masterpiece, Davy. You’ve captured the human condition at its rawest best. White noise – lucky or unlucky those who have escaped it. The image is wonderful too. Loved it. 🙂

    1. Thank you for your supportive words, Terveen. White noise can inspire or hinder a writer. Perhaps writing is the human condition? It feels like it most days. Glad you enjoyed the poetry.

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