Clockwork clattering under the wheels of passing
traffic upon an abandoned metal sign,
its body battered by incessant punches.
The pendulous pulse of wind upon the house,
lifting creaky floorboards and sighing sheets.
Fence panels wait for telekinesis’ toss.
We sleep uneasily, the night feels haunted.

A noisy night last night…
(13.03.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Dawid Zawiła on Unsplash