Walking. A poem by Fran Bardsley

The sky is an endless blue
Punctuated by cotton wool wisps
Designed to emphasise its vibrancy.
Birdsong fills the air jubilantly.
The sun reaches down
Embracing me with tendrils of warmth,
Caressing me with the promise of summer.
I am filled with an overwhelming sense of
Guilt.Have I strayed too far from home?
Walked longer than strictly necessary for my daily exercise?
Joe Wicks had me sweating, shooting webs at 9
So that’s my quota
This walk is an indulgence.

Did I touch the gate as I passed through?
When I stopped –
Two metres apart –
To greet my neighbour,
Did I fail again to do
My duty?

The sun shines on above me.
It sees me wrestle with my conscience
Before turning around,
Opening the gate with my elbow,
Scuttling home in shame
My eyes averted from its brilliance.

A journalist for 10 years, Fran now works in marketing and PR in the education sector and writes as much as she can. Older writings can be found here: mightier-than-the-sword.blogspot.com

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