Geenstijl

Het is weekend. Jaar in. Jaar uit.

Before telegraph, news traveled
from mouth to ear, from hand to hand.
News arrived old. From sea to sea
took weeks, unless carried by boys
stationed along the stagecoach route
to race a cross-country relay.
Your pulse gallops toward the handoff,
when your teammate takes the baton
and the noise and flurry go on
without you. Your leg run, you and
your horse (your partner, your friend) stand
encompassed in adrenalin,
watching, as the Ancestors must,
unable to help, but cheering.
Prettig weekend. En be nice.