Cave

Corrosive, my fingers ache to touch it
the steady ageless drip
of water, slowly making its way
down the stiff rocky peaks,
the calcium hardening like
the nails on my fingertips.
I long to touch the wall
but decide instead to feel with
my eyes, as they can do
no visible harm.

by Shanna Johnting

Driving

The trees and houses dance past,
quickly moving in and out of sight
like an old friend lost in memory,
a dream.

by Shanna Johnting