Weary eyes that blink

williamson-p06-07-150Alice diary pagepagefromAliceWilliamson’sdiary


Here is a poem I wrote fourteen years ago:

Stray page found in the bottom of the trunk


Brittle yellow paper

rattles in my hand.

Song about the roadway

tarnished by the land

where heat meets sand;

I cannot find the shaper.


Writing’s like a window

roiling with dull sheen.

Watching at the threshold,

child I might have been

bends her back to glean

footmarks from the shadow.


Woodworker and learner

scallop, shred and shrink

sawdust, resin, russet,

weary eyes that blink,

leading me to think

better of the sterner.


Stumbling on the shaper,

not the one I seek,

sharpens breath to shorter,

eyebrows rise to peak,

gulping as I speak

words from yellowed paper.




<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/blink/”>Blink</a&gt;

Published by ahiggins2013

poet, birder, senior citizen, cancer survivor, Catholic sister. Eight books of poetry published: At the Year’s Elbow, Mellen Poetry Press 2000; Scattered Showers in a Clear Sky, Plain View Press 2007; chapbooks: Pick It Up and Read, Finishing Line Press 2008, How the Hand Behaves, Finishing Line Press 2009, Digging for God, Wipf and Stock 2010, Vexed Questions, Aldrich Press 2013, Reconnaissance, Texture Press 2014, and Life List, Finishing Line Press, 2015.

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