John Tustin’s poetry has appeared in many literary journals, online and in print, since 2009. fritzware.com/johntustinpoetry contains links to his published poetry online.

PALM LEAVES STREWN

Palm leaves strewn on the path before us
On our way through the town to the temple.
All you have to do is take my hand and walk with me.
Walk with me toward the open doors of the tabernacle
That emits a wondrous and warm light. 

Ignore the rabble who appear on either side of our road;
Who hurl rotten produce and insults, make threats
And harbor ill will. They do not exist in the forward. 
Walk with me toward the open tabernacle doors
And we will shut them behind us, hand in hand. 

SKETCHING

On the days I wasn’t working
I’d go to this café on the corner.
I’d order a tea and I’d sit with my little book
And I’d surreptitiously draw some of the ladies
As they stood in line
Or sat at another table
Alone or with another woman
Or a man.

I worked a lot but when I wasn’t working
I could be found at my table in the back,
Almost in the dark,
Sketching and listening to the music in my head,
Concentrating.
I would go home at night
To my piles of filled sketch books,
My unfinished paintings and all those little pencil stubs.
The stubs were everywhere. 
Sometimes I’d make an effort to collect them and throw them out
But there were just so many.

Occasionally I’d concentrate on one woman
Who would come day after day to the café, same as me.
Eventually it was possible that we would talk or even sit together
But very quickly that would end
And I would go back to my table in the back and start sketching again.

I don’t think any woman there or anywhere ever tried to draw me
But I probably wouldn’t have noticed if one did,
Too busy with my sketchbooks and my pencils that quickly whittled down
To nubs.