Can I just admit I’m still full
from Thanksgiving dinner four days ago?
Maybe eating pie for every meal since
hasn’t helped. So far, my most significant salvo
for attacking the stuffed feeling has been to stop
getting on my scale.
But as of now, as soon as I post this,
I am going to go take a walk.
About a mile from my house, down
a quiet, scenic road with speed bumps,
(lest I move too quickly),
stands my favorite stop sign.
I walk to it most days and touch the seven
o’clock corner of the octagon for luck.
I listen to my iPod, keep my hands in my pockets
and sometimes I see a guy with a three-legged dog.
I’m not fooling myself. This is not true
exercise like playing squash or lifting weights.
I have really nothing profound to say about it
I’m going to take a walk.