Wrestling
People ask me
Where have you been?
The truth is hard to verbalize
So I tell them, “Wrestling.”
The sports fans gape, aghast,
“You have a son in the sport?”
“No, just me. Wrestling.”
They narrow their eyes and turn away.
The pious nod, wisely,
Assuming a spiritual crisis,
“Seek peace,” they urge.
“Of course,” I nod without commitment.
The young laugh aloud,
Picturing sexual liaisons,
For they know a thing or two
About a bedtime romp.
I let them laugh.
And return to my work,
Where I wrestle with words,
Pushing them into place,
Trying to pin their shoulders
As they knock me to the mat
Again and again and again.
It is a long struggle.
The clock is ticking.
I will win.
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enjoyed the read
a rest...i really liked this....
have already discovered patrick's wonderful witt...asked him to send some articles to the atlanta journal ...especially renaming... was it 405? to 285 n.
was only born in minnisota but spent my young life (until teen yrs) in california....costa mesa and santa ana....still have family in santa barbara...newport beach ...visit occasionally ...have always felt more californian than georgian. what a talented great pair you two (yall) make
Cheers,
Dan
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
fee
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.