A Poem a Day (45): Slide

Slide

I wonder walking

ever sliding

never needing

in the quiet

between the walls,

it smiles.

Drawing a picture

of life it reveals

the immaterial you

of the ages spent,

the coffee rhymes

in curls of steam

where fingers loop

darting around

and around.

Comes the evening

it expresses this

and even footsteps

mirroring the echo

I believe in

as I walk

ever listening

in this bubble

of me.

It’s the sounding

staring into concrete

lives lived here

once resurrected

redrawing things anew -

were they spent?

I forgot

was this me or you?

let’s pretend to rhyme

in time

with the falling rain.

It thunders again -

hear it falling

like the dew of morning.

I do not think.

Instead it feels light

as though everything

is lifting

like a cloud blowing

in the breeze.

I listen clear

to the shells singing

the ripple of the sea

pulling outward

towards the line.

Shimmering like heat

it shakes hands

with the sky,

never mourning

what is forgotten.

Like a dancer turning

these waves spin,

plunging themselves

in this fit of life

so sudden -

so like this breath

escaping me.

A cloud in the sky

staring down,

what do we hear

ever listening?

In this way

I tread these boards

looking, touching

where fingertips

play on ivory

So I can begin again

where it stopped.

Sinking in the rain

only to roar

upon the silent sea

that twists

in toppling sound -

here it falls

so listlessly

this rain,

this new day.

copyright Vickie Johnstone