as i reach the 7th mile
on my afternoon hike
i drop to my knees and
think: stage one.
my vision blurs as spittle
drips from my lips onto
my shirt, just over my
rapidly beating heart.
grabbing the bandanna
from my glistening bald head
i wipe the sweat from
my flushed, blood-red face.
i contemplate screaming,
cursing at a nonexistent god
who had no plan for me
that involved growing old.
teetering on the edge of stage 2,
i reel in my rage and denial
for just a little longer,
without realizing that's all i have.
No comments:
Post a Comment