Beating On the Walls Of My House

A steady rhythm: rainy
windy night. Sleep ends
earlier than desired.
I take what little I’ve received
and rise.

This is who I am today, I guess.

I try to explain it to
my body. My body responds
with pain and upset.
I take what I receive
and rise.

My body and I agree
that I am nearly too old for this.

I’m losing my strength and my grasp.
My body is losing the will
to restore. Early to bed and
staggeringly early to rise
make this man
long to sleep forever
but the body resists, refuses
to approach the inevitable unknown.

I must take what I am given
and rise.

This is who I will be today, I guess:
a weakened man up far too early,
working far too hard for too little,
waiting out steady rain, strong winds,
a beating being drummed
upon the walls of my house.

About Tony Brown

A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

One response to “Beating On the Walls Of My House

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