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You Are But a Stride Away

Heart. Beats slowly. One more step. Just around the corner. The race is almost complete. Stride. Ever shrinking. Time always fleeing. Another mile nearly done. A challenge ahead to overcome. Life. It flies. Final steps ahead. I’m exhausted, but still, I want to begin again.

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Thomas Wells

Date: 4/30/2020 10:49:00 PM

Hi Roland, I get from this poem the sense of reaching for something but not quite getting there. I feel as though time is running short in the words "Ever shrinking. Time always fleeing." The poem also expresses how we wear down but still pick ourselves up to continue. I certainly know this experience. As an older man, I have been striding and picking myself up for sometime. Nice job, Roland! I look forward to reading more of your poetry.