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Verlie Burroughs is a west coast writer from Vancouver Island.



Poems pass like trains
in the middle of the night.
Journeys underway,
they are carrying heavy freight.
The weight, of our dreams.

The Days

I watched the days jump
like rats
(or ants)
Those days didn't wave
They were too high in
the sky
They were too sly.
I saw the ship come in -
the days could not wait
they found life on board too slow?
How could I know?
Those days just up and
And I watched them go.


I was driving too fast
ran out of gas
too pooped to pass
too cool for class.
Drove to the beach
slept in the cab
woke with a stab
the sun in my eyes
No Camping
said the signs.
I continued to drive
just to keep alive
the hope that I'd survive.
As stories often go,
an angel rode with me
And in blessed mercy,
steered me

Crash Test

When my computer died
I almost cried
I was beside
myself with panic
I was frantic
I thought a quick reset
would fix it,
but it didn't, so old mind set,
I write once again
with a pen.


Candle light vigil,
words parachute onto paper
many smiles away.

© 2018 Verlie Burroughs