Jim hobbles along
I hear the tap of his cane
Before I see him
The athlete now gone
Imagining better days
Disguised to most
I remember him
Swarthy sportsman in his prime
Footballer of note
What smooths his way now?
Uncanny the change of time
He's past wanting fame
Such songs that were sung
Poems of his fearsome skill
I too dread this day
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I think we all dread that day..i love the rhythm of this like the cliquey clack of that cane which aches to be a pair of running shoes...a beautifully poised and paced poem
ReplyDeleteBy cliquey we mean clickety - unless there is a secret society of cane users out there!
ReplyDeleteThat is our secret society Jae, the 'Cliquey Clacks' sounds right to me.
ReplyDeleteI suspect that both of us have the same attitude to the passing of the years! Older and wiser I say. Life gets better as the years roll by!
ReplyDeleteOh such longing and incipient dread in this one - and yet a sweetness
ReplyDeleteAs we all do.
ReplyDeleteThanks for coming by to visit.
Have a blessed week.