A Poem a Day (731): In/Out (poems from a hotel lounge)

In
 
A life in nine frames,
ebony lines on pearl,
stripped bare of colour,
yielding to mix.
 
Cut in, cut out,
a reveal without the whole,
a copy recopied,
just an interpretation.
 
An almost echo,
we reflect our symmetry.
 
Light paints fresh patterns,
moves in waves,
casts doubt on stillness,
enters into self.

Out
 
Calligraphic scales,
a dance in streaks of ink,
rip stark contrasts;
partners in depiction
fighting to describe,
like bodies out of tune,
desperate to separate
into disparate worlds.
 
For now we have pictures
of our life,
a memory of things
never written
for they were never lived.
 
Left with only an idea,
colour in the spaces
between these bold lines
that breathe and scold.

You seldom exist
outside of things.
 
 
Vickie Johnstone, August 23, 2025