Where the Sidewalk Ends

✨A Poem✨

The sidewalks passes by below my feet.

It doesn’t lead to the finish line

but it will take me most of the way.

There’s the usual cracks and bottle caps,

gum wrappers and gum that lost their stick.

A breeze blows blades of grass across my feet

and into the road.

It’s just a stroll

but it’s taking me places.

-Saschia ✨Jayne✨ Johnson

It Wasn’t Me

✨A Poem✨

The world turns upside-down sometimes

and shakes those loose coins from your back pocket.

Maybe they were weighing you down

or you owed them somewhere.

Maybe the whole floor-to-ceiling thing is favor.

Could be a favor for you.

Some people like to shake things up a bit.

I’m not one of those people.

Give me the soft blanket gifted to me decades ago

fraying at the ends,

and the same dark corner

where goodness comes to visit

after the sun sets

and that’s all I need.

Saschia 💫Jayne💫 Johnson

James Joyce Haunts Me

✨A Poem ✨

James Joyce haunts me

on the back porch.

I pinch myself.

He joins my dreams

and grasps my hand

letting me know

I’m not alone in this world I built

of words.

Could have been someone else,

any other writer,

any other professor of life,

and maybe it was,

but I saw Joyce.

Saschia 💫Jayne💫 Johnson