Zone out
Embrace the zone-out, rewind it all in,
this coming out of sleep, a withdrawing
or the redrawing of an irreverent end.
Paint curls from the walls and rust seers
a fire branding every habitation visited.
We watch time turn the world to grey.
It’s a turning, a forgetting. I can’t find the door.
At the back of my mind I walk through it,
turn a crank and the whole scene disappears.
We take supper with old friends long passed,
light a comet under stories to remember them.
Do you feel old? The day is turning around
To look at you, measure you against expectations,
read and learn as karma counts your weight.
You grow taller, but you’ll never feel it.
We take pleasure in this space, this quiet,
refuel our batteries in this mindful silence.
But it is always too short. The walls plunge in.
Our environs suck us dry. Empty cusks.
And here we are, gazing at the dripping rain,
trying to spy a rainbow leaking an abundance
of colour.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 23, 2020
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for commenting :)