Poetry from Jade Riordan

Photo: Martin Adams

Ceiling Unlimited

I tuck myself into the roof shingles
& stucco the sky
with Blu Tack & glow-in-the-dark stars.

When the light under the door
goes out, I
catch my forest green curtains
on the trees’ fingers so
that there’s enough street light
to read by.

I telescope gaze through the eavestrough
at the cars pulling into their driveways
across the road & try
to make shadow puppets
with their headlights.

In the (dream)space
between my neighbours’ houses, I
tiptoe across porchlight brightened
chimney smoke then slip
onto the rafters. I cover every splinter
& square foot with the whisper
of bedtime stories from years ago,
with almost
sleepwalk, with hush (& remember).

I wake to the garbage truck
backing up. I wake
when Halley’s comet returns.
.

.

Jade Riordan is from northern Canada; she’s currently attending university further south. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in Contemporary Verse 2, The Malahat Review, Outrageous Fortune, Room, 3Elements Literary Review, and elsewhere. She is a member of Bywords’ selection committee.