In my younger muscular days I Could hoof it around the trail at The park. I felt compassion for those who Limped along. Now, since my hips and legs rebel, I'm The slow one. But a snail's pace has benefits. I can try to identify the wild flowers that pop Up in the spring. I recognize the trillium and umbrella plants, but I'm unsure about the others. I search for burls bulging on some of the Tree trunks and follow a scampering Noise to a squirrel digging in the underbrush. I stop to read the marker describing the Pawpaw tree. I can observe and absorb. I discovered that a Facebook friend shares my Enjoyment of a relaxed gait, too, and When the sage posted a wise saying on his Page I copied it, not just on paper, but on A t-shirt. I wore the shirt today as I poked along the Trail at Highbanks leaning on my Walking stick. I pointed out the message to a Woman who stopped to chat: "If it isn't slow, is it even a walk? -Al Iten" "I totally agree," the woman told me. She was hampered with a bad back. We compared notes about the loveliness We had already seen on our stroll, and Then she continued on in her direction while I continued on in mine, both of us Taking it slow. |
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Dorothy Kalb Hsu Seitzinger
Writing poetry has helped me process and express my sorrows and joys, my concerns and blessings. "Life is hard, but God is good!" Archives
December 2020
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