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Best Poems Written by Sarah Ann Jullion

Below are the all-time best Sarah Ann Jullion poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Seattle Streets

The traffic light
delayed us both
Me driving my car
She driving her cart.

The traffic direction changed, rotated,
making black eyes spark annoyed 
as her walk signal failed to appear,
   shrunken mouth twisting crooked 
   ‘neath her frowned brow
   as roughly she retreated, 
Bang-bang banging her fist 
   against the shiny metal round,
   push-to-cross-pedestrian-knob.
Then glancing up
relief cleared her angry face...
The green walk-stick-figure beckoning her
across from the street light across.

Adeptly her cart she wheeled ‘round
worked down the sidewalk dip
Then scurry did she quick-careful between
the safety of yellow crossing lines.

Unabashed, I watched 
as her crooked shape veered 
down the opposite sidewalk
hugging the closed wall of shops
hurrying hurrying to where oh where
cloaked all in black
nearly invisible
amongst the street dusk shadows.

Black colored her, 
from escaping hair, 
to scarf, long skirt, scuffed dark shoes, many layered black socks.
a so-slight woman, mostly skin and bones, 
scarfed head bent, right-angled downward peering
tanned skin stretched thin ‘cross facial bones protruding, 
sunken cheeks now filling the space of now-gone teeth,
the rooster wattle skin beneath her chin
to yell the tell of years passing past.

Pushing resolutely 
her world 
bungie-corded to storage on wheels
a layered life stacked high
ancient black suitcase on the bottom,
twine-tied brown box layered next,
bulging black-shiny plastic bag top-crowning,
all securely strapped…

Simple baggage that never
never
would be checked at the gate.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Missing You

My missing you
never stops.

Not since    the beginning 
   when my eyes   first    saw
   your wide    almost infinite    expanse,
Not since   my ears first heard
   your angry roars   or    soft soothings,
Not since
your salty perfume    filled my spirit.

Blessed be I
to have made    your acquaintance,
oh ocean    dear ocean.
Blessed be I.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

To the Well

The well of blessing
be clear and open.
Every day
May we go to the well, 
Let drop our weathered
   bucket of life,
   to be filled anew,
Then draw up its sweet 
   joy of grace and being
   and drink,
Knowing that for today,
All we need 
will be there for us.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

In America

My dear, my dear,
How goes it in America,
   in America,
   my dear?
How goes it in America?

Fine fine fine, says she.

Except 
   of course
   of course
not so finefinefine

If
You are a woman
   or an immigrant
or uneducated
or lacking skills
or poor
   or black
   or brown...

That's how she goes
   in America,
dear Liberty Lady.

Your beacon light
shines not on all.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Grace of a Day

Her ancient  black cat 
Greets   yet one
  more day
Sitting beside 
  her old caretaker.
Both   have stuttered 
  to the dawn  of day...
'Tis one more beauty
gifted  to them,
  the tired ones.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Pushed Out

Like a clenched handful of sand,
The small granules of my days slip
   through my tight fist, 
Refusing to be held captive,
Escaping so quickly 
   into the past,
Pushed out by the pressure 
   of tomorrow,
Unable to be saved
   for a better 
   time.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Crescent Moon

Your cookie-cuttered crescent
   white shining  slender moon
hung solitary 
   in the crisp Autumn dark

Until a cloud  dressed in fog
   pulled the shade
   obscuring you 
to but  a silhouette.

Yet, as be the way  with things,
   your cloud shall drift away
to free your lighting
   of our shade.

To be sure  such not
   to be  for me...
My cloud's caught
   on a broken 
   edge
   of my heart
And she struggles,
   struggles
to be free.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Day Shuttered

Curtains    be drawn
today be shuttered, 
   the sign    Closed
hung in the  sky window 
   by the Master, Sun.

Restless be I,
yet  bound   
   by the tick-clocking 
   of time's daily custom,
I search the dark   for sleep 
   but find it  not, 
Only falling   awake
   to overhear   Me 
   be saying to   Myself:
'The day is over. Time to rest.'

Then sassy-mouth  Myself
   talking back:
'But I want to  stop 
   the day's end.
Please, I haven't finished
   living it  yet.'

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Bled Out

oh no.
slipped  from my fingers
   it did  so did
freed 
   from its holding
   once  so snug
now spilled...

spilled.sspplllaaat.splat.trickle.dripdrop

as dear  as costly
   such it was,
now seeping  away
   slinking off   
with no  back-look
   at what be 
   left behind

Love dissolving  in the stone
   upon the floor
all 'round  all 'round  my feet

Love weeping   creeping
   from the  broken
   of my soul
my precious  precious not
   not to return
to the holding  in my heart

      Love's beauty 
      bled out.
         Gone.  
         Just gone.

Details | Sarah Ann Jullion Poem

Possibles

'Tis said
for to create
One needs the shade
   of an oasis,
   of quiet solitude,
For to soften 
   direct sunlight's glare,
Teasing one
   into the shadows,
that ambiguity
   of possibles.