thursday afternoon

by Julie Allyn Johnson

seven words cycle

through random readings,

various collections of poetry

& rhyme, cable chyrons,

screen-bottom crawls,

daily newsprint:

wind / woke /

lilacs /

bivouac / articulate(d) /

inflation anxiety

I want to burrow

beneath a cranberry quilt

in a 4-season sunroom,

daybed strewn with pillows

a calico giraffe

paisley raccoon —

faithful cuddle companions

you’ll bring me my chai

a blend of chocolate & vanilla

together we’ll work out Sudoku

and chart the remainder of our days,

Charlie Parker jazz keeping us mellow

Julie Allyn Johnson, a sawyer's daughter – the eldest of six girls - from the American Midwest, savors long walks in the woods, any time of year.  She loves Halloween, photography, gravel-travel, art, poetry and haiku, reading, linocut printing and hiking in the Rocky Mountains.  Her current obsession is tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric.  Julie's poetry can be found in various journals including Lyrical Iowa, The Briar Cliff Review, Phantom Kangaroo, The Disappointed Housewife, Anti-Heroin Chic, Typehouse Literary Magazine, Better Than Starbucks and Chestnut Review.