Prize fighter

Prize fighter

Prize fighter




Everything suggests that I am late

The memory, the notes on soiled paper

Remorse and nagging doubt


My skin and my eyes. My hair

All indicate that things have changed

And I am shocked!


Picture books hold vestiges

Of my fading self

That I open now with caution


So where has the locomotion

Of all my life

Been hiding. In which siding?


For all the guides. Almanacs

The legends told

I am not familiar with them all


A shadow falls

Stooped in changing light

And fleetingly is all of me.

2 thoughts on “Prize fighter

  1. I like this poem – its very accessible. Can you tell me how you post on linked in please? I don’t understand how to launch my insights into cyberspace as you do………

    best GGuido

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