la vie en rose

You get swamped
by the peleton
if you can’t find the wheel.
Turning on a rhapsody of pain
your own chateau
seems strange in summer light.
It’s not enough to be valiant.
The sermons say different.
Four slim points can seem
an abyss. Getting up
is just a job, no thanks
to dawny fingers
drumming the soul’s office.
A sprint, a climb.
There’s an elephant
in the garden
a tank down the road
under god’s control.
The timer blinks.
Polish the giro helmet.
Hey ho, let’s go!


LiteraryMinded said…
I really felt this poem Jill, thank you. I would love to send you one of mine which I believe is a similar theme, but I don't think it is as subtle and resonating as yours,

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