What a little walk won’t do,
to soak you through
with warmth and light
of sun,
and freshest air,

a swift spin on a bike just might,
to get your gears a-turning
smooth as a flying, wind-filled kite,
that soars agleam
with sun’s bright glare. . .

or, failing that,
a floor
on which to flop,
and feel and breathe
from your walk and ride
you got,
will be apt
set you right. . .

So you
can be more you,
not just
your clever talk to talk,
but your best, clear walk to walk,
so strong and straight
and tall and true.

This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

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