Black and Blue
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
No worse alarm than an impatient delivery man.
My eyes wide open let the sunlight in.
Like an old school darkroom, the film reel exposed.
The image now ruined.
My dreams interrupted.
Black and blue tones fade.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.
Stop banging!
Groggy, startled, half-dressed, and cold.
Jumping out of bed as quickly as I can.
The cold air of the bedroom slaps me.
Rocketing to the top of the stairs when it happens.
Wood staircase meet white tube socks.
BOUNCE, BOUNCE, BOUNCE.
Damn cold feet in the middle of the night.
Slippery as a sheet of ice, my feet fall out from under me,
Gravity cannot be defied.
SILENCE.
In a flash, I am flat on my back at the bottom of the stairs.
Surveying the damage--wondering what is broken.
The delivery man will have to wait.
All I see is black and blue.
The same colors
of my dreams.
- © John Johnson 2021
John Johnson is an author and entrepreneur from McLean, Virginia. His recent poetry has been published in The Boston Literary Magazine, The Poet, and Sundial Magazine.
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