A Poem a Day (205): Walls

Walls

A living box,

Red-brick castle.

Lead-piping veins

Pump crystal water.

Red hermits scuttle,

Creep and crawl,

Waiting for a shell.

Chalk scrawls ‘welcome’,

A ‘come inside’ to all.

Walls no longer a prison,

Walls no longer afraid.

This living box.

It fears containment,

Unwritten blankness,

Finds comfort in a scrawl

Along blank canvas.

Where it slinks and slides,

It can’t help but divide,

Offering a sanctitude

In cement, of time.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, July 10, 2020.