Monday, 10 April 2017

poetry 2017 / 054

Harai Goshi

It surprises me how far he's come.
I remember his first class,
where he stumbled,
awkward and self-effasive,
through the dojo door,
learning to stand in base, bow
escape a basic strangle.

How he lifts me with ease,
tilts me upside down,
sends me travelling through the air,
seeing the world through a different lens.
I'll miss him when he goes;
his smile, his bobbing nervousness,
his apology and the faint scent of steel
he carries with him; an anthem
to a life well lived
and friendship.

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