Sunday morning runners
pass by bay window,
oozing life, while I strain
to catch a glimpse, movement
tenuous – irony of life
rendered surreal
by chronic illness.
(Twitter Tuesday. For more Twitter poems find me @Vjknuton.)
Sunday morning runners
pass by bay window,
oozing life, while I strain
to catch a glimpse, movement
tenuous – irony of life
rendered surreal
by chronic illness.
(Twitter Tuesday. For more Twitter poems find me @Vjknuton.)
Comments are closed.
Powerful poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Mark.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLike
Oh, I hope you begin to feel better. I see my husband’s struggle with health issues and I watched him, an avid runner all his life, look with longing today as we saw a jogger on the sidewalk as we returned from the doctor’s – again. Sending hugs of health your way.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks LuAnne. I wondered how your husband is doing. Grieving the former self is part of the process.
LikeLike
Thank you, V.J. He is battling the aftermath of two acute issues but nothing chronic. Although, it might lead to a permanent reduction in his energy/mobility which would be a great loss I can see it would best be served by the grieving process. I hadn’t thought of that. Thanks.
LikeLike
You are welcome, LuAnne. Glad to hear there is an end point for him.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Touching. There is a deep sense of longing in this poem written so simply.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you. Appreciate it!
LikeLike
contrasts but no comparisons, reality varies.
LikeLiked by 1 person
True. Thanks for that perspective.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sunfaced Buddha, Moonfaced Buddha.
LikeLike