Saturday, 27 May 2017

A Poem a Day (60): Walking

Another one for JD Mader's Friday 2minutes go session :)


He practised the art of forgetting in the time of stillness
Where the widest lines seemed to promise desolation
If he stayed long enough, tried hard enough, in his
Unfathomable desire to escape into an echo of bliss

He sees himself sometimes, a fleeting glimpse of sometimes,
When nothing is and the playing brings only emptiness -
This loitering in a life drifting into days of commonplace
Against a background song reminiscing in a broken key.

Here the dusted wind blows in on the second-handed chord,
Cleft in his fist is the starstruck face that the moon left behind
On a January night when the sea turned black against an iced earth,
His footsteps cursed in the art of sleepwalking through his life

This is desolation’s severed promise of a blood-red emptiness,
The heart scooped out and wrung so dry beneath a faithless sun,
Leaving the spider-web loneness of something so real it hurt
Lost in the years left behind, scattered like dandelions blown.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, May 26, 2017

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