A Scar in Time

Superficial is the scar
that digs and tunnels.
We are passengers traveling on this mock route;
Carrying our self desirous luggage.

What frequencies we leave about.
Tie it like a knot in time
stitch after stitch
Scarred up, riddled.

An old eraser, uneasy in child’s hand
Rubbing just enough that it can’t be made out.
Are you awake or just receiving static?
Just a flicker of your surrounding?

I am in and out
Of flux.

© 28-Nov-2007 Sonja J. Phinney

Shoes On The Door

He got angry and nailed her shoes to the front door.
This was the dream that awoke me.
Three years later, I found myself overseas
Walking and taking pictures when I came across
A pair of shoes nailed to a front door.
It made me laugh
And I still wonder, the meaning behind those shoes.

People disembark the train with half empty expressions
Around the large station clock, unchained.
Bound to their next destination past the rail noise and announcements.

The air breaths down my back as I pick up a book from the waiting area.
A chattering of families swoop across the station as I read about the local death of
Some teens who had taken an overdose of ecstasy.
White teeth flash in front of me.
I feel the moment of neon and floorboard in my ears.

Hands on a shovel in the cold rain.
Mud through the grass.

A measured moment between flickers
Skin and teeth, feet and shoes
Nailed up like a worded reminder
A broken reminder of what is left behind.

© -Sonja J. Johnston 21-Jan-2014