Over The Bridge

Reads: 187  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Health and Fitness  |  House: Booksie Classic
A poem about making it over the hill.

Submitted: September 13, 2009

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 13, 2009



I view the dirt trail ahead of me full of curiosity as I begun to run. A tin building with tractor equipment to my left and field to my right. My feet hit the ground with little passion because I run for exercise. Not for enjoyment as my feet hit the ground less rapidly than my heart. Purely for exercise I pass the tin building as there is now fields for both. I can't enjoy the wind or the noise in my surroundings it's all me. Just my feet crash down the dirt giving into the speed and weight. The dirt shifts beneath me as I come to the bridge that was recently distant. My breathing becomes irregular and my bodies heaving telling me to stop. Its only my mental strength and perseverance that puts me at the hill. My energy is distraught and I slow to a walk as my mind begins to spin. The earth spins, my thoughts stop as I face the ground to spit repeatedly. My heart slows as I make it to the top to sit and view the traffic below. I re cooperate only slightly as my senses begin to return to there equality. I stand nimble my legs, slightly cooked noodles, and begin my best to walk. The crickets repeat there short ree and the green grass grows in the center. I walk to the right and see birds flying in individual patterns above me. The grass filled ditches act as a fence to avoid as I gain strength in leg. The gravel beneath contains rock I step on as it breaks into the dust below. The single grass blade catches and moves in the breeze I can now enjoy. I can smell September as the summer begins to turn and halt the sun and fun. What details I can pay attention to when I am over the hill and take it slow. When just minutes before me I was the center of attention the top of my game. I continue to pursue my road ahead of me paying attention to every detail. When before as young and stubborn but strong as an ox my senses withdrew. Careful old man I can only expect you to respect the youth your stubborn too.

© Copyright 2017 frog. All rights reserved.

Add Your Comments:

More Health and Fitness Poems

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by frog


Script / Fan Fiction

Timeless Serenity

Poem / Non-Fiction

God's Grace in Hell

Poem / Memoir

Popular Tags