The Old Poet Lifts Weights

The old poet breathes in,
dragging the grey smoke of his cigarette
deep inside him.

“The biggest lie” he said,
his voice raspy with truth,
“is that the weight is too heavy.”

He breathed out and in again.
“It is only too heavy to lift
alone.”

He turned, and walked away,
almost a saunter,
only the smoke remaining.

 About this poem

Part of a series that is getting long enough it might deserve a book.

Tom