Saturday 25 September 2021

A Poem a Day (475): She likes to mix it up

 
She likes to mix it up
sometimes, share her heart
on a leaf of paper read,
scribbled on with her name.
It is eager to reveal itself,
being unique and well formed.
This is where it lays its head,
opens its arms in the spread.
It is only one person here,
standing still against the cold,
the sun has dripped away
behind the cloudy silent screen.
It’s a pattern she knows
while she waits for the stars
to empty out their souls
til there is nothing but dust.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 25, 2021


Thursday 16 September 2021

A Poem a Day (474): Erosion

 
Erosion
 
Two went out
but only one returned.
 
He trips on fault,
refusing to say a word.
 
Lost among giants
towering over landscapes
 
ripped and engineered
by erosion’s hands.
 
They say prayers at night,
wondering where she is,
 
begging for a little help
where silence now lives.
 
We see her face online,
smiles for the camera,
 
so carefree and happy.
Where could she be?
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 16, 2021


Saturday 11 September 2021

A Poem a Day (473): Feathers

 
Feathers 
 
Feathers turn on the air,
burrow in the upflift
fluttering, these precious things,
the barest feel of touch
spinning. A white glow.
Breezes take them skyward
as if to connect with the stars,
breathe as high as the moon.
Scant traces of being
blown away and now lost.
Not feathers but people
falling.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 11, 2021

A Poem a Day (472): Rivulets


Rivulets 
 
These pungent colours pack a punch,
run in single rivulets searching,
 
find solace in the in between,
the evidential stop and start.
 
It’s the flow until the end,
a delicate line drawn underneath
 
this elevation to ardour,
a pretence we no longer have.
 
Take watch of eagles in flight,
the soar and the silver arch,
 
the dip in a separated sky,
once launched, floating on high.
 
We draw our hands together,
turn our palms up to the sun
 
collecting its beaten yolk rays.
It seeps through our fingers.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 11, 2021


Thursday 9 September 2021

A Poem a Day (471): Visions


Visions
 
Visions of perfected pages,
light curls paper edges.
 
This slow burn unfolding,
it snarls and ignites,
 
a stammer withheld,
flames in flight like birds,
 
feathers spread in a fan.
We lift on the backdraft,
 
our arms in suspension,
an umbrella of curves,
 
the cosmic overseer.
We are lifted up and out.
 
The drop is not so far,
this fire all enduring.
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 9, 2021


Sunday 5 September 2021

A Poem a Day (470): Safe

 
Safe
 
Is it a luxury to feel safe in this world?
When things spill over
we feel them slip between our fingers.
We feel fear like a cold breath,
something dig into the pit of our stomach,
making us feel sick to the core.
If you no longer feel safe,
how can you feel safe in this world?
How can you pick up your life?
If you no longer feel safe,
how can you ever feel safe again?
 
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, September 5, 2021