Thursday the eighth of February,

and eleven point seven miles I’ve walked,

a running total in defiance

of the enemy within,

of voices in my head who’d rather

I sit quiet, with nose to screen,

consuming crap made just for me,

algorhythmically designed

to rob me of humanity,

of poetry in my walking’s rhythm,

a miracle that’s in full flow,

performed by those who gave me life,

a gift whose giving I must honour,

by making most of my good health,

in that’s the greatest of my wealth.

My first step is to take one now,

one mile today is one mile more

than all the miles I’ve ever walked

than all the miles I’ve ever run,

one mile today is one mile more.