The act of walking (a prose poem in parts)

The act of walking.

1. Barrack and Melville Street

Buoyant and flinging off the clinging vestments of town, heart pounding and now top head throbbing bobbing up the hill burning thighs afire, forced to wait at traffic lights, then still, then onward past that place -hello gorgeous and breathing so heavy that it betrays a death rattle, the battle of wounded lung, spun phlegm and coughing up he goes, panting and palpitating - bugger the top too far.Near as damn it as near as I'll get.

Summit. Of sorts, a victory for the tragically semi-fit, nearly resulting in a seizure - then begins the recovery of plodding and juddering d-o-w-n - hips are not the same as shock absorbents - something sprung, shot clattering wreckage and neither are they hip, slowly resolving burning lungs to cool. Feigning casual fitness as the passers-by passing by, lithe and flexible things, one smiles, out of pity, or paternal recognition, who knows? Onward, slowly gaining composure