Tuesday, 17 September 2019

A Poem a Day (106): Sunburn



Sunburn

Through the red dirt drag shoeless feet,
Scrawling lines. Standing small, little hands
Draw stickmen in oblong cars upon a wall,
Bare arms tea-stained by the blinking sun,
Brown freckles sprinkled liberally on noses.

A cloud-white scruff of a dog grins, hanging idle,
Head held crooked, razor tail shaking in time,
His pink drooped tongue looking to catch a fly.
Barking, he chases every drop of dust and chalk
Round and round, loping, lurching, haphazard.

The shimmer shammer of brief minutes tick by 
Like hours, waking blue glimmers of neon dragonflies, 
Aliens from a forgotten time, translucent wings
Flickering, catching an essence of light to return it
To the waiting sun.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, July 6/September 16, 2019

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