This is a section of my Poetry Project I handed in this term. Just putting it out there.
This week I
was walking up a flight of stairs when I heard someone call out to me. I turned
and saw Josh Kariya, the little brother of one of my close high school friends,
new this semester to SUU. I had not seen Josh in 5 years, but I could have
picked him out of a group any day. There aren’t many half-Japanese,
six-foot-three, football players running around the state. What surprised me
was that it was him who recognized me. When Josh last saw me I had close
cropped hair and was clean shaven, not to mention a little more svelte. Yet he
did recognize me from a distance.
“I thought I
recognized the Nate-Smith lumber,” he said almost immediately.
I knew
exactly what he was talking about. It’s the style of walking I’ve had ever
since I started growing into my body at age 12: hands in pockets, head cocked
to one side, leisurely pace. The word he used was lumber. And the way I walk,
along with the word Josh used to describe it, tells a great deal about me. It
shows that I have always been bigger and taller than most of my peers, and thus
took to slouching. My head cocked slightly like I’m in a low ceiling room. You
might guess that I’m deep in my own world by my leisurely pace, and you’d be
correct. And my hands stay in my pockets to try to convey comfort and ease,
which is usually the exact opposite of how I feel.
Thus, “the
Nate-Smith lumber”.
There are a
thousand words more useful to describe the way a person walks. An air of
confidence follows those who strut.
Youthfulness and glee are usually apparent in one who prances. Business and stress mark the man who bustles. Serene beauty follows her that glides.
I like to
watch the way people walk. Do they swing their arms? Do they sway their hips?
Are they comfortable or not? Do they have somewhere to be or not?
The Greeks
supposedly have 100 variations of the word love
in their language. Yet one wonders how many variations they have for the word walk.
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