Imminent Transformation

Backdropped Ivy

creeps up pink bricks.

Cherry blossoms shade

daffodils and tulips —

vibrating to the rhythm of

rubber on pavement, wind

against barreling metal,

the rushing waves of

waste in sewer lines

below.

Commanding graffiti rules

just metres beyond,

at the tattered tracks

along which tires and

trees mingle on

landscapes of rubble

dimpled with rust-red

bolts and nails.

Loosely, they dare to

fit in, jagged like the

rocks around them.

Glimpses of this

Anthropocene city’s

dwindling hold over

my heart’s enthrallment

shine through with a tinge

of formerly infatuated

feelings, happily reignited,

if only for a moment.

I detach piece by piece;

transformation’s imminence,

having lingered too long,

shimmies the most

steadfast bits free.

An unusual opportunity

hangs on the horizon to

the east; of that there is

certainty.

Whether the version

of belonging I find there is

like bright green ivy against

powder-pink petals

or strewn, weathered bolts

protruding from

black, porous gravel

is a mystery worth

uncovering

at the cost of

familiarity.

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