muscled thighs
churn muddy strides
up a steep hill
then another
one more
then
sky
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Category: kahrmann poetry
This life
Sometimes a dream dies. Something you may have held on to, believed possible for as long as you have memory. Age may decrease this distance. I wonder if this is an act of kindness.
Our body’s seem to pitch in too. Our vision fogs, a tender erasure of the imperfections of aging — everyone still looks wonderful.
What an experience this life.
Let’m come
Sweet pulse muscle moves
me onward up hill
climbing days
let’m come
Leg churning piston drives
open sky breeze shifting
feather touching
let’m come
Powered legs raise me standing
unflinching unbowed vision
clear sighted I say
let’m come
Spit shine
Let me spit shine some words for a ramble
on this page words my words be
rhythms set free they walk stride skip
carrying you along for how long
we’ve yet to see remember
to breathe now breathe
necessary you
know
Quiet
Quiet
A sweet sound
Heals my depths
All the way
Through
