London Poem: Day 122

17 December

I’m slow in coming to
Where I want to be.
Heavy boned and sluggish,
I only move when you do.
To get to where one move
Together seems greater than I can
Do, but I try.
Where does trying go when the
End results are how we are
Gauged? I can’t move as easily
As making matters worse by
Attributing a loss of feeling
To your able feet.
But, still I try, closing
My eyes tight to dream
Of your love,
Which pushes me slowly
Through another night.

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In flux

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