Overtime I’ve noticed
I prefer more stability
as I move through a room.
I enjoy a slow movement
across familiar territory.
Never having a dancer’s grace,
I stumble on the slightest shadow
like a drunk down a dark stair.
Although my words plod on
clumsily shod feet, and I have
little surprise in my speech,
I am content, in my way,
with my pedestrian pace
to take my leave home.
(August 12, 2025)
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