Julie Allyn Johnson is a sawyer’s daughter from the American Midwest whose current obsession is
tackling the rough and tumble sport of quilting and the accumulation of fabric. A Pushcart Prize
nominee, her poetry can be found in Star*Line, The Briar Cliff Review, Phantom Kangaroo, Haven
Speculative, Cream Scene Carnival, Coffin Bell, The Lake, Haikuniverse, Chestnut Review and other
journals.
lagger tag
Originally published in Do Geese See God
I watch as ink
dries on the page,
its wetness
first catching
the light
of the midday sun
then, like distant
hills at dusk,
the blackness
grows darker,
a matte finish
on gleaming white
I’m so much
older now
in my bones
than I felt
a year ago
the moons fly by
but pastel markings
on the sidewalk
still tempt
the hopscotch in me
Mackinaw
Originally published in Recesses Zine
Watch as Jane makes headway in her struggle against the ravages of ego lost, of ego consumed, of ego
deftly manipulated along the bitter shores of a surreptitious lake in the Upper Peninsula where she
grieves for the five sisters whose betrayal still stings, for a mother who made none of it happen and then
all of it happen, and her father—well. Her father whom she adored although some would question why
that might be. The Grand Hotel was a bit fancy for her tastes, the shoreline condos and B&B’s too
excessive for one of her simple origins. She prefers rusticity as host for her creature comforts. Listen as
Jane draws a bead on an eastern screech-owl, her fingers tapping a frost-coated fence post, her suede-
trimmed hiking boots tamping down last night’s snowfall as an eerie stream of silence whistles through
stands of balsam fir and paper birch, unseen purveyors of the island’s darkness. Smell the tang of greed
in the air, the pretentious odors of inauthenticity. Savor the marble-slab fudge, the rainbow array of
taffy, the rancid aftertaste of money boarding the ferry back to the mainland. Witness Jane’s resolve to
disregard the onus of crushing despair. Celebrate with Jane as she strides ever forward, vowing to
reclaim her once-lost life.
The Field Guide Poetry Magazine 