Sonnet №18 — The Scuffle

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Photo by @chasta03 via Unsplash

I heard her scuffling feet as she walked. Nearly every day, this woman walked my neighborhood. It took several years of me smiling, then smiling and waving, before she would even look up. After perhaps 10 years, she began to look my way. I was friendly with her older sister, who was her caregiver. She’s out there walking still.

Sonnet №18 — Scuffle

You hear her scuffling feet as she walks by.

Her head falls forward with each stumbled step.

Her hump won’t let her gaze up to the sky.

Once strong she strode, yet now her strength has ebbed.

You see her pick her way along the road,

Yet, the tarmac’s silky smooth; swept and clear

She’s suffered many years; her back is bowed.

Her hips, her knees, her heart, she treads in fear.

For years, I’ve watched this woman walk this lane

She’s a walker, and will be ’til the end

Her steps so swift, now slowed, yet still she’s fain

to keep on walking, ’til her story’s penned.

On twenty years, I’ve watched her round that bend

We’ve never spoke, doth dare I call her friend?

-{David L. Stanley}{DStan58}, April 2019

Written by

DStan58 is a teacher, a writer, a dad, a voice-over actor and poet. He's a melanoma survivor and a pulmonary embolism survivor. He's bringing sonnets back,

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