Friday, 1 March 2013

A poem a day (4): Passing skies

Five-minute poetry...

Passing skies

She wakes, the hunted,
Trapped in a spell, unravelling.
In time she will revive
But not on this day;
In accents past she walked,
Breathed, sighed, dreamed,
Yet now all is hollow,
Withered and serene.

She passes memories
Hidden away in boxes;
Soundless, sleepless,
She wanders this land
Unknowing where she goes.
Come hither, they say;
As the essence of things flow
She knows herself in yesterday.


Some haiku

Come into the light
Where grim darkness hides no more -
We can flit and fly


The curved, pink shell turns
Rushing the sea to the ear -
Rhymes of mariners




Copyright Vickie Johnstone


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