A Lap Around The Field Poem by douglas lewis
A Lap Around The Field
I ran solo today
Under a mould-like sky
In greyish stale,
No running to catch
My shadow.
Only slipstreamed thoughts
In unbalanced circles
That pulsed and puddled
And paddled away.
No squinting heart.
No peeling crown.
Just my arms pumping
Like a faulty windmill.
Quite original as far as... well, everything: subject matter, wording, imagery, though it suggested to me quite an accomplished state of zen-jogging stripped down to the very core where only the 'arms pumping like a faulty windmill' remain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 4:05:25 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A thoughtful start during running. Thanks