The roar of traffic
coruscates at best
when wind is westerly
– leaves no muted
guess to sordid origins
doors attest the beast
is not restrained
by solid walls
or innuendo double-glazing
billion dollar views
the sea
of sound crescendos
with each wave of planes
descending through
the murky afternoon
no place for peace within
this sphere constrained
by noise that oozes
freely from the cities’
seeping pores
© 7 November 2008, I. D. Carswell
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