Wednesday, March 17, 2021

The Runner Upstairs by Jeanne Julian

After dwelling where the only morning sounds
were squabbling geese, cicadas, purr of a passing
johnboat and its wake wheedling squeaks
from the dock, you’d think this daily pounding,

the rhythmic thump of footfalls from above
accompanied by a soundtrack’s rumbling
bass-notes rattling our lamps—evoking Thor
flat-footed on a thunder-powered treadmill—

would be at best annoying, at worst,
a sign that condo life was a misguided choice.
But no. Nestled in our last (perhaps) haven,
our corner of the sacred hive, we harken
to the hubris of youth, and mildly rejoice.

Jeanne Julian of South Portland, Maine, is co-winner of Reed Magazine's Edwin Markham Prize (2019). Author of Like the O in Hope and two chapbooks, she has published poems in Comstock Review, Kakalak, Poetry Quarterly, Naugatuck River Review and other journals. She reviews books for The Main Street Rag.

1 comment:

  1. I enjoyed this marvelous work greatly, JJ; found it highly relatable. I thought you might enjoy this (penned on one of my annual journeys to the quietude of the Lakes Region in Maine):