the way of things

The hill before me rises
and I smile,
confident that synapse,
nerve, tendon, muscle
and bone,
combined with
the right attitude,
will take me
in smooth locomotion
to the top
and beyond.

Time and time again
I test this knowledge,
this current, smug, certainty;
glorying in the beads of sweat
breaking on my brow
clinging to the contours of my face;
exhalting in the fierce breath
forced from my lungs,
burning the length of my throat;
touching the taut muscle of my thigh,
certain that tomorrow will hurt.

As I return,
full of stories,
red-faced from my walk,
some part of you
must hate me,
your son.

Claimed by your chair
these four months past,
now walking poles
designed for mountains
are needed
to summit the stairs.
You eat little,
watching television,
chin on upturned palms,
elbows propped on knees;
half cripple, half child.

Life is fading from you,
while I gain in strength.
With obscene clarity
I see for myself
the way of things.

the way of things

mkgillies

Cheshunt, United Kingdom

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Artwork Comments

  • BettinaSchwarz
  • mkgillies
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