stops

I am tired, I move slow,
denied my usual aerobic
mix and muscle-work, it
descends into softness and
bad posture.

My back is thinner: my
shoulder-blades feel the mattress
springs uncomfortably -
my padding is going.

I think of the journey
tomorrow, leaving this place
to roads West and the
Tamar.  I wonder

if I'll ever be back
or whether the pilgrimage,
the long journey played-out
behind me
ends here.

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