Our love- a car crash.

Fear’s icy tendrils caress the nape of my neck

I see the mangled wreckage up ahead

Acrid smoke spewing from the burnt-out shell

That was your car.

 

Carnage.

Plastic bags strewn across the carriageway carelessly.

Empty nest, neglected summer,

Loneliness brandished in the scorched tyre treads.

 

Relief washes over me

I am waterfall to babbling brook

Phoenix from the ashes-you live on

We have a second chance to ignite and burn brightly.

 

©Alison Jean Hankinson

This is for d’Verse where metaphor is the challenge.

P1050740

 

 

 

 

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