Sunday, 17 November 2013

A Poem a Day (45): 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

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