Zywa Vishnu's circle

My thick white naked
leg up, crooked

weak the flesh of my poorly muscled arm
the middle finger touching the top
of the big toe, a circle

an only just made contact with myself

These goings and the weary
increasingly the weary

of it all, not knowing where
with whom and when, but
anyway ever unnoticed

a turning point, passed

Poem 93
Train Nijmegen-Amsterdam, 2007-10-12

Collection: Moons 
Keyword: Old age: ailments 
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