A Runner's Bout With Rest

The muscles in my lower back are clenched,
clinging to my spinal column like vines to a trellis,
but less lovely and more concerning
in their gravitational goals.
There are no roses on these vines,
viciously climbing the ladder of my ribs.

I fear a mutiny.

You see, I'd grown used to putting my limbs to task,
logging time and distance in the name of
But this week of rest, as much as I'd hoped for it,
has left me rotted rather than ripened,
and my stiffness speaks a warning of potential famine
and failure. 

I advise myself to stretch out in the morning
before taking on the day,
to prune back the prying ivy
which is now wedged between my shoulder blades,
to reach an accord with my body
and bow to its demand for movement
at the soonest possible opportunity.


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This page contains a single entry by Audrey Camp published on September 7, 2008 10:59 PM.

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