This poem was written for JD Mader's Unemployed Imagination website. He has a weekly weekend writing exercise called 2minutesgo - just show up and write whatever you like or read everyone's stories. This is the link: 2minutesgo. Cheers :)
The visitors
We sleep in other people’s beds,
try on misshapen shoes,
ill-fitting and wretched,
wonder where the walls end
and the outside creeps in.
touches nothing, does not sit,
leaves no fingerprints or dust.
We’re not the type of intruder
who eats up all the porridge.
our shadows cast no echo.
We are the silent visitors
who neither beg nor borrow,
just travelling through.
Copyright Vickie Johnstone, February 13, 2022
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thanks for commenting :)