His body toned, thin like a runner
short, tank top
good running shoes
coming toward me
through the village
passing me on the left
going to the store
Something wrong,
his motion awkward
his gait not even
his torso contorted
held motionless
as he was running
moving, in motion
but something not right
The right hand raised
up to his ear
the cell phone urgently
talking on the run
couldn’t stop to answer
couldn’t wait for the call
couldn’t stop running
though defeating his purpose
the movement stunted
his important call
as is he wasn’t running at all.
August 18, 2010
runner on Main Street, Suncook, NH
August 16, 2010
All of my poems are copyrighted by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012. All rights reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss for usage. See all 19,130+ of my poems at http://www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com Poetry Where You Live.
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