We have forgotten ambience in the face of efficiency. This is the true downfall of humans, the decay of magic in the spaces we meet and love each other. The libraries whirr with machinery and all nooks are brightly lit. The parks are shorn and manicured and not a bush is left to hide in.

Were magic happened, and ambience flourished, we shone a light because we were so scared of the darkness in ourselves. Forgetting it is where our soul rests.


I wander with my bicycle
the steed and I meander;
we aim to leave the beaten path
in search of ambience lost.

Passing by the kissing-gates
and deeper off the map,
we turn our backs from finger-posts
in search of magic spaces.

We trundle over bumps and rise
and further from mankind,
we leave the lights and machinery
in search of a place to hide.

We’ll feel it when we find it
the solace of secluded nook,
a place to meet and love another
a place for souls to rest.

@wordsmith @Corvusrobotica

You count
of tires;
the dirt paths,
the no hands,
baseball cards
and clothesline
pins, clicking;
the way in which
bicycle memories
remind you
of spaces
you've nearly
rest now,
beneath the
tree, and doze
a bit, sleep
into the

#smallpoems response riffing

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