Verlie Burroughs is a west coast writer from Vancouver Island.
She writes of the song of the morning
that she heard on a wing and a prayer
She sees all the shapes in the borning
but when she looks close nobody is there
She writes of the sound of the morning
and the growl of the thrumming sea
a growl like a mourning prayer
while birds tumble over in air
Their wings are all tufted and lacy
bright eyes peer back at her stare
She writes from a dream now grown hazy
of a past that she left who knows where
fast tracking back to a feeling
when she was there -- wheeling
wildly without a care.
I used to love the sound of a train in the night
it made me feel so aware
that I was somewhere
far away from home
on an adventure
sleeping bag on the floor of my Aunt's city living room
awake in wonder
wishing I was there.
Didn't Plan to Stay
I was just passing through didn't plan to stay
My first impulse was to run, I tried that
and failed miserably.
And sure enough it's gonna rain.
If the creek rises I'll be stranded here again.
Tried the high road and ran into a glitch
The low road led me through a ditch.
After a while I thought if I swim maybe the
water will take me in'
No luck with that I bobbed back up like a cork
now I'm riding downstream
hoping there's a fork that will
lead to some shore
where the air smells sweet and the fires burn no more
Whatever happens next, it was me at the door
I didn't see it coming when it slammed in my face
I was too busy trying to disguise my disgrace.
Bright birds of poetry ruffled and scattered
humans locked down in a merciless manner.
I didn't plan to stay any way.
I follow the full moon
The full moon
the path so bright!
Drenched in light
© 2020 Verlie Burroughs