Saturday, April 12, 2014

I is for Increments


Inches are hard
earned in eighths
and gathered in feet,
each wooden length
a stinging reminder
of our failures.

Yards pass with
army-crawl effort,
elbows and the inward
edge of knee pulling in
straight-edged angles
toward an ending
we cannot see.

And yet, when at last we
rise, palms raw, knuckles bled,
rubbed red against the rough
thread of the carpeted
earth, we see behind us
only miles, steps blurred
to hindsight ease and, pleased,
we gather breath and death
for sleep.

Hard to think
we must wake tomorrow
and do it all again.

Poet's Note:  Running a little behind. Sleep took hold of me the past two nights running when I should have been bloggity-blog-blogging.  Hoping to catch up today and tomorrow.  That said, this poem hopefully captures some of my thoughts of late about life, about some books I've been reading.  I'd be more detailed but am always curious if my meaning comes through without my having to explain.  Hopefully it does.  And now I'm just rambling so I'll be quiet now.  Yay A to Z challenge and Poetry! 


  1. I'm behind, too. This poem goes well for it, thank you!

  2. Waving from the A to Z. Hooray for a poetry focus. Nice work.