The illusion of home

How home can be torn away by one event

Particles of rock
Golden beams reflecting
off the turbulent body
of salty water
chiming of sea rats
like nostalgic memories
Loud, rip-roaring of
four-wheeled creatures
plastic cheetas tearing
at the pillowy mountains
Bells of joy and curves
of lips like
a slice of watermelon
A glance to the side
And the clock stops
Heart still
But pounding louder
and faster
than it ever has
A tumbleweed of
metal, plastic
cloth and skin
loud voices screaming
like blaring alarms
The birds laughing
at our attempts at fun
Blinding lights
two out of three
of the primary colors
Whisked away like leaves
in an autumn breeze
Traditional delights of summer
stripped away
as paper from a wall
we used to call home