A Poem a Day (657): NaPoWriMo Day 26 - Down

 
Day 26 
 
Prompt: write a poem that involves alliteration, consonance and assonance. www.napowrimo.net

 
 
Down
 
Tunnelling Tarquin under, in the unseen,
looking low for a clearing in the obscene,
the grey-grime tumult of a city scene
afloat with sold, slick petroleum slime.
 
Visages of visitors, suitcases snagging,
stick and slide in slush and mud and gin,
escaping the smother, the fog, drawn thin,
the slay of a thousand hungry tongues.
 
Someone drew a way out in a line of chalk,
but it only exists if you can walk the talk.
The voiceless view only a cover of dust,
an estrangement in an ever-torn maze.
 
On a wide wood plank, sailors signal times
to the softest seas, mountains, myriad lines
of cirrus cloud, swept out so far it pines.
You will not see its true intention,
 
and it blows, how it blows, and it’s white
upon white upon white, flying for light.
And if you stay under too long this blight,
you’ll wither in the raw of your bones.
 
Starlings swarm where the skies rake dry
from a drip-down dawn, a saved goodbye.
It’s where the old ghosts walk in solitude,
where the lost eventually deign to die.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, April 26, 2024