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