poem one: if wishes were

if only the ghost-tread
of tyres on the road
possessed awareness
of the process
behind burning rubber
& if only the truth
had a bouncing soul
like my best pair of boots,
steady in the onslaught
[oh, you pretty things]
& if only I could be the pavement
soaking up the rain, head
too hard for hailstones
& if only we understood
the bitter-dust magic when we
daily turn gold back to straw.

*

this is the result of following the poem-a-day prompt, ‘resistance’.