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Local Focus – Global Reach

Posted by MFish

When I worked, I would go running at night.
My running route, was always down a street with a light.
Going down my street, 148thAvenue Northeast,
Listening to my Walkman, an electrical device.
For those of you , it was a Sony portable cassette player.
Sorry, I did regress, so back to the run.
Here I was jogging strong, when my toe hit
The edge of a raised slab in the sidewalk.
I tripped and without thinking, did a "tuck and roll",
Which was like a somersault, so back to
My feet, I did spring. I was both proud
But embarrassed that I had fallen to the ground.
So, I looked up the street and then down,
Whew! I did not see anyone around.
I wasn't hurt and felt no lingering pain.
I discussed the event and told my refrain
Of falling and not getting hurt. I said
My Walkman was attached to my waist.
I pressed the area and said with a wince,
That I must have rolled on the player, since
There was a pain. In a few days, I did peruse
My waist where I observed, a sizeable bruise.
The advice I give you my friend,
Is to pick up your feet, when you run.
The end.

How do you write about
what you don't know?
Through observation of daily
contact and comments?
I have noted the comments,
"I don't know what I am doing."
Discussions are often started by
"Do you remember?" and then
a struggle, by me to call forth
an answer to that question.
A question from me, in return,
as I try to "pin down" who or what.
A wrong guess is accompanied by
a "No, No, No" and a waving of hands.
Sometimes, I am lucky, in my guess,
but mostly I am not. I do try
to use a process of elimination but
the asking of questions, by me, brings
a response of "I don't know:; I can't
remember." Frustrating for us both.
Every day brings a new adventure
in this our life's journey.

The sunlight
spirals downward; caught
by the dust in the trees,
then burrows into the
piles of scattered leaves.
Life goes on, as Sun rays
spill toward the sheltered ground.
There is a golden silence
for the wind blows, not now.
It will resume in morning
hours, before the Rooster crows;.
Life is beautiful when you
hear the Songbird sing
about a song and ring
of light, from the Sun above
filled with warmth
and with love.

Your avatar
Loy • 07/18/2019 at 01:39PM • Like 1

Beautiful poem

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