Julie Prescott
Poetry
Through many lives, in many countries, I've carried a love of words and curiosity about people’s stories.
In Transit, my first book of poetry, is filled with character sketches inspired by my fellow passengers on city transit.
As I watch them, I try to imagine what their lives are like, where they are going and why.
That simple act has gone a long way to decrease my reticence to engage with strangers, and to increase my curiosity and empathy.
My thanks go to those who met my eye, returned a smile or shared a conversation for a little while.
They inspire these poems.
If you'd like to buy a copy of my book, please send me a note.
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Highland Lass
Early morning on the seawall,
Your purposeful stride
Caught my eye
As your long, strong legs,
Clad in knee-length tartan shorts,
Churned through the headwind.
You turned your head, crowned
In fiery red curls
As the sun caught your lean face
And carved a golden line
Down your high-boned cheek,
Against the pale blue sky.
I could imagine you
Striding along the highland cliffs,
Cheeks whipped raw by the cutting wind,
Gulls wheeling ’round your head.