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A fleeting image

It was just a fleeting image of a familiar skyline

Towering high above the shiny trousers of a bus

Driver ready to take his seat behind the wheel

A something and nothing moment that so often

Invokes memories secretly waiting to come

Tumbling out with a smile or a tear


Boarding such a bus would, I recall, whisk me

Home from school and into the bosom of the

Family. Whilst next door and in the next street

Were chums and confidants, rascals and rascalettes

Now grown-up and gone and so too the streets

Demolished to make way for modernity. But

What can never be demolished are the memories

Of a time when all was young and around every

Corner lay adventure

© Joseph G Dawson
11/08/2018 and earlier

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