Heavy going
and he’s
in a hurry
as you can see:
powerful shoulders
pumping,
upper body
straining forward –
but the entrance
(tough luck)
is always
on the opposite side.
October 16, 2017
Wheelchair access
By hjs
This entry was posted on Monday, October 16th, 2017 at 9:51 pm and tagged with New York and posted in All poems, Life_the Universe_and .... You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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- Earth Rising
- Mantua
- Carrying Jack
- Tourists
- My Acceptance Speech
- A Balance
- My father’s handgun
- Map reading at 60
- My Covid-19 Song
- Jack at sixteen
- New Year’s Day
- Llanthony
- Patrishow
- Sunday morning at the canal
- Lunatics
- Too late
- The Master of Sleep
- Writing
- Late January
- Snow on the sidewalk
- Cat. Field. Morning. Midday. Dusk
- Migration
- Triumphs of Design
- Monteraponi
- Infinity Pool
- Old dog, dreamhunting
- Thaw
- Operating instructions
- Chickentime
- Recipe for happiness
- On Washington Crossing the Delaware
- Ellis Island
- Walking on Thin Air
- John Brown in the Met
- Wheelchair access
- New York Scenes
- Party
- Salisbury Cathedral
- A lesson from the DSLR workshop
- Too steep
- Footwear
- Paper thin
- Newfoundland I
- Newfoundland II
- El Horcajo
- Cotswold Graveyard
- Uisge
- Grizzly bears and other surprises
- The View
- In the Still of the Night
- November Recipe
- Yellowstone
- Transcendence in the RV Park
- Burqa
- Subversive dictionary
- Collioure
- Prague awakening
- Love story, Midwest
- Birds of the early morning
- The Undoing of Flight
- History (i)
- In-between
- Birthday
- The Fierceness of Badgers
- Polar explorations
- The bathroom Schwanen, Bernau
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