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At the Gym with the Brontes
by
Andrea Potos


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Briskly walking and never arriving,
I feel slightly silly,
my gaze bobbing under fluorescent light
as I try to read the pages of Jane Eyre
weighted down on the metal tray.
Behind it, flashing red tells me
if my heart is doing its work,
if I've lopped off the damage
from last night's pie,
 
though I'm certain Emily and Charlotte,
even Anne, never thought of calories as
they trod their restless moors,
what on earth would they say about
exercising a body where
there is no soul to expand it,
no hems grazed by dirt and gorse,
nor hairs wrestled and and undone
by a zealous wind while curlews swoop
and shriek in assent. 
 
From We Lit the Lamps Ourselves (Salmon Poetry).
Used here with the author's permission.


Andrea Potos, who writes in longhand, is a longtime independent bookseller and the author of numerous books; her latest is Her Joy Becomes, from Fernwood Press. Andrea loves reading, travel, cafes, and walking beside lakes and on green trails—“of which there are many,” she says, in Madison, Wisconsin, where she lives. Andrea’s Greek grandparents and their spirit have been an abiding presence and inspiration throughout her life and poetry.

                             

 

 

 


Post New Comment:
ghctenmile@earthlink.net:
I love this! Thanks for writing it and thanks for sharing it. Grace
Posted 06/26/2012 01:24 PM
Marilyn L Taylor:
That second stanza blows me away, Andrea. Terrific!
Posted 06/26/2012 08:52 AM
CamilleBalla:
'what on earth would they say about exercising a body where there is no soul to expand it'!! I agree. Oh, how I like this poem! It says so much. I've tried that on the treadmill but my soul likes a slower pace to savor what I'm reading. ~ Cami
Posted 06/26/2012 08:47 AM
mimi:
how I agree with and love this poem--thanks, Andrea! Sharon Auberle
Posted 06/26/2012 06:52 AM


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