A flash poem written for JD Mader's 2minutes go writingexercise... It's every Friday-Sunday, so if you fancy writing something - whatever you feel like - head over there, or just read the flash fiction and poetry.
Smoke escapes as words silently twisting,
Rising from the gaps between your fingers,
Nails gnawed at the edges, pink and raw,
Discoloured yellow, cracked and worn. I study
These quiet purveyors of another language
Transfixed, as though they carry the secrets of
The moon and a vision of loveliness only you
Can portray in stories woven, twisting in the air.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 5, 2018