There is a rattle
deep in the belly of our not-so-old car
plastered with its political declarations and subtle confrontations.
It’s not a constant rattle, signaling its discontent only upon the first turn of the key, undetectable to mechanics and other passengers.
It’s been there for so long, I wonder if it’s possible that it was there all along.
But wouldn’t we have noticed it?
Wouldn’t we have heard it when the car was shiny & new & full of promises?
And now that it is a part of the whole,
there are many days when the rattle is missed altogether.
But, there are days, when the rattle roars, forcing me to recoil for just a moment.
On those mornings
when my silence is assaulted by the reminder
that all is so clearly not right with the one thing I am depending upon
I wait for the crescendo…
and then the fall back to a quiet pretense that all is okay
amyilene 
We do that sometimes in our daily life too 😊
LikeLike
Wonderful poem! I especially liked your use of alliteration in creating the images. I think WCW would approve.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Your poem is quiet, which is incongruous w/ the rattle and the annoyance of it. Funny what we notice and don’t notice depending on the moment. Excellent poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, your poem captures so exactly those thoughts caused by cars of ‘what could be wrong and should something be done about it’!! It resonates with me especially your last line!
LikeLiked by 1 person