When walking is like dancing

I didn’t write this poem, but thought I’d share it.

Jane Wilson

A sweet breeze ruffles the leaves, green and red, with golden edges.

The window screen is silvered by the sunlight.

The clouds languish beyond the rooftops, feeling the warmth, unwilling to move.

We climb the stairs, not haltingly, but with purpose, enjoying the strength of our legs and our lungs.

We move forward, with resolve.

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About pedometergeek

A pharmacist by profession, a haiku poet by nature, I read and write. I have a book of haiku, Ohayo Haiku, and another somewhat alternative haiku book, Three Breaths, but write other genres. I also read...lots of novels! My favorite is, and remains, Ayn Rand's Atlas Shrugged but I am also a big Harry Potter fan. I truly am a pedometer geek strapping on my pedometer as soon as I awaken.
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