I still whistle and read the funny pagesToday's poem is a follow-up to the last line of this poem.
Still love a dog and walking barefoot
Just yesterday I stood on my head
I imagine a cartwheel isn't far behind
A Cartwheel Is a Poem
don’t feel fifty-three
don’t see it in the mirror
will not act my age
think tall, toes pointed
muscle memory kicks in
smile through it all
morning on the beach
no better way to spend it
turning upside down
Poem ©Tricia Stohr-Hunt, 2019. All rights reserved.
Happy Sunday all. See you tomorrow for another original poem.