Every hour I wait
Every hour I wait
For the trickle of time
Spilling over pages
Filling the in between,
Waking colours
In the pitch;
Fading footsteps
Sinking in wet sand.
I wake
In fresh remembrance
Circling my hands
In water.
Blue fades
In the young hereafter
As pink petals fall
Coveting the small.
Ache in waking
Reaching to fulfill
The arch of the rainbow.
Sings in the sand
A blissful echo
Of
the silver noon tide.
copyright Vickie Johnstone
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