Member Poem

Squirrels darting, dead of night
Vivid velvet curtains of mist indistinguishable from city fog adorned, a courageous jogger, Addison.
Marsh light mirage appeared to beckon to canvass of the mind
“I’ll find myself one day or precisely one night.”
Addison, was a jogger who could be imagined by the most colourful imaginations.
A person who ran jogged sprinted with crystal clear vision
“Ironic, I must connect somehow in every environment.”
Her slim svelte surging figure aptly attired for a wetland plagued by a city scape of  habitats.
Just on the fringe of a sizeable town entering a 2024 empowerment.
Yet she seemed ostracized for whatever
reason.
“My issue  seems that I have been evaluating all around me.”
Addison tribe, circles, connects were many.
Yet the dimensions of personal constellation etc would taunt a canvass painter.
Her sister, an accomplished painter appeared to be intimidated by her feisty sister’s midnight trekking.
A ballooning complexity didn’t interfere with her job as an new age clairvoyant.
Allied to other healing skills.
“But here I am channeling for everyone bar myself.”
This angel glow mystery of a runner 
Her images reflect in mud spume pools.
The micro burn of fireflies, the crickets clucking incessantly.
Sinister birds perched on trees.
“One thing can’t does is paint
Leave that to my twin sister.”
Addison did a swerve, a torsion but fortunately avoided any injury or strain
“Goodness, a black eagle winked at me.”
Addison to her said.
A ghostly gothic gust of wind with a shrill high pitch appears.
Like background music
A grey splattered sweat from Addison’s brow was wiped by her as continuum.
It was so therapeutic for Addison this weekly  fly by night.
Damp, sprays, squelching, soggy patches prevailed.
“I can have it both ways.
I seem at home here.”
Addison wondering aloud.
What exactly were the somersaults in her mind?
The ecosystem seemed like an imprint.
Yet I dream of this incongruous dash.”
Addison reflected.
Yes indeed, Addison’s propensity for dashing.
Not driven by any stretch but a dash.
An inspirational dash.
An urge, a quirk, a whim, even whimsy.
“I must now dash.”
Addison would wryly whisper to herself.
Not that these traits of hers was a source of irrational blushes or awkward self-recrimination.
They actually amplified her allure and mystery.

A town land in her mind which she seemed both drawn to but would somethimes flee.
It’s encoded enigma seemed to travel with her.
Her town of birth now taking possession of her more and  more.
Its carousel of excitement, night and day empowered this clairvoyant.
Running, jogging, sprinting ..,. a symbolic expression.
“Muddy pool, …. I’ve done it again.
It’s real deep. I’m out but enough water for my moonlight reflections.”
Addison appearing in a splattered mirror images of herself.”
All simultaneously  frenzy of another kind occurred in tandem.
During these midnight runs two parallel worlds occupied her mind.
She could recall her daylight conundrum with crystalline clarity.
“Figure …. In front … behind.”
Odd to say the least
My imagination and everything.”
Actually a blackbird or songbird that seemed to call as if in alignment or connection.
There could be other reasons.
Daylight hour surge of a poles apart different kind.
The after hours,, daylight hours.
“I have to be extremely careful.
Here I am, competent person, loving this routine when available to me.
I adore the town I live in yet I’m constantly running from it.”
Eerie and quite unusual.
She mutters knowing probably she is only being heard by herself
But is this true?
Addison seeks and seems to be reckless.
But actually that isn't true.
She has included in her repertoire camping at night, surviving in the open and less than hospitable environments both  town and country.
A stoic person with the most deep, profound perceptions and awareness.
My feet are going down.
But I spotted that puddle even though whilst thinking of my daily activities.
“Colourful town, magic to wake up to.
You sense the
turbo charged energy from every source.
Throughout the course of the day.
People in throngs … in isolated cliques.
You can feel this catharsis.”
Two parallel universesn now preoccupied Addison.
The surreal hush of a glorified swamp partial lit by the vehicle of a swirling moon in flight across the sky.
It appeared to mirror Addison and her quest.
“My sister seems to be leading a more sedentary life.
She has her brushstrokes as a vivid release.
Lady of many stellar skill sets.
A biologist and environmentalist too.”
Addison doing a momentary volte face.
“I’m doing a scrape, against tree trunks, a brush with life and limb menaces,
All those wet impact craters, they zig zag.
Wretched logs strewn, bogs that belch stream in dark canopy.”
Bilocation earthly day and night carousel.
“Yet here I am transfixed in a swoosh of 24/7 night and day utopia.
My mind can’t elude either.
They are me, who I am,
It looks like I’m a fugitive from what fascinates me and actually sums me up.”
And indeed, Addison has done some of her best thinking whilst doing brisk sprints when the weather permitted through the streets of her home town.
As in her nightly dash her shrewd mind would capture every setting and contemplation  would follow.
“It’s  a veil these daily grind and nocturnal gyrations.
It’s not that I’m an excessively private person.
Nothing could be further from the truth.
When in the midst of conversation there are these reruns of these dualities.
Night , day and other time passages in between.
Addison is intuiting  yet dashing forward.
“Oh a bird on my shoulder.
It’s trying to interact with me or tell me something.
Another now on my other shoulder or are they about to… is that a squawk?
Did I hear a cackle or even a weep of some intrinsic kind?”
Queries and questions anymore than Addison’s quaint dashes.
I would be the heartless one just to remove these affectionate creatures.
Maybe they are part of that intrigue so germane to my life experiences.”
Addison’s rhetorical self interrogation like a razor
sharpe barrister.
“Oh, there’s a light.
Is that the morning creeping in.”
She, Addison now having completed another sprint, run, jogtrot.
A DASH…mmm!
“Maybe I could take a leaf from my sister’s copy and take up the brush!
We could swop lifestyles for awhile even.”
At that point Addison slowed down and started to walk in a leisurely fashion back into town!