Two Poems

by Julie Allyn Johnson

imploring the hills to sing

linked to

a blackened sky,

engulfed in flames,

I become small

katydids & crickets

chirp a steady drone

minutes excruciate

a slow drip, drip, drip

hope, perhaps, lingers

on some distant horizon…

but you be a taker

and I won’t be took

no more

I listen for deep forests,

still pondering

their delicious magic

sages astride 12 harlequin bicycles

cavalier women chase

a powder-blue hat

down a windy thoroughfare

they balance Easter eggs

on upturned teacups

under a globular sun,

left hands stroking

the unruffled feathers

of a great horned owl

while a circle

of Slovakian tourists

marvel at their feats

of dexterity

and fierce bravado—

each is wearing high heels

after all, mounted

on roller skates,

ankles cloaked

in cashmere stockings,

their delicate earlobes

dripping in malachite

BIO: Julie Allyn Johnson is a sawyer's daughter from the American Midwest whose current obsession is tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric.  A Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net nominee, her poetry can be found in Star*Line, The Briar Cliff Review, Phantom Kangaroo, Lyrical Iowa, Moss Piglet, Cream Scene Carnival, Coffin Bell, The Lake, Haikuniverse, Chestnut Review and other journals.  Julie enjoys photography and writing daily haiku, both of which can be found on her blog, A Sawyer’s Daughter.