http://www.napowrimo.net/ "And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Let’s take a leaf from Shelley’s book, and write poems in which mysterious and magical things occur."
The
world is grey beneath the chill precipitations
Commuters
straggle home reading the evening news
Traffic
fills the air with discordant imprecations
In
that stop/start rhythm known as the rush hour blues.
Then
over by the station a weird note splits the air
And
the clouds are ripped apart by a sudden solar flare
While
the whole scene seems to pause, caught between two beats
And
a sudden, wild, music rushes through the streets.
Colours
bleed onto wet roads, stained glass reflection dyes,
Are
sucked up by the consonance and painted in the skies,
Arcing
through the heavens against the falling rain
A
banner for the battle against the drab mundane.
Til
the plangent notes fall silent and the day
Resumes
its weary plodding forgetful of the fae
Spell
that gripped and held, though deep in a long night
Some
wake in mindless panic to an air that isn’t right.
So
if you pay attention you may taste upon the breeze
An
echo of the threnody that made the city freeze
Or
see a faded shadow curve through the atmosphere.
Was
is a blessing or a curse that caused that feral fear?
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