GloPoWriMo 2017 - day seven

Today the challenge is to write a 'fortuitous' poem. I cannot say it fascinates me, but . . .



Only in my dreams.

When the wind touches your hair with the lightest of touches;
When your tea is just that bit too hot for you to drink;
When you go to bed after a good day, and feel the caress of the sheets;
Like these, one day, a thought passes into your mind, and you
Watch the dogs racing down the disused road, fighting
Over a stick, rolling and tumbling as only dogs can;
And you glance down when you get back into the driving seat
Of your so-practical estate car, and see the pen that you thought
Had vanished in the pocket of the rather seedy salesman who
Had spent ten minutes trying to convince you to buy double glazing.
And you put the pen, safely, into your pocket,
And drive home to your already double-glazed house.
But even that does not erase the memory that drifted into
Your conscious mind, and it does not erase the echo
Of laughter that you will never ever hear again.

(c) 2ndwitch, 07/04/17