Beginner Karate: Thursdays 6 til 7
below the balcony the kids do karate kicks
their bare feet clapping the golden floor
their practice is hard-pressed, priest-like, devout and ritual
the varnished room is warmed by reverence and focus
on small noises: white cotton rushing
and the odd hard exhalation beaten from the lungs
the bleach shining corridors leave the gymnasium
empty halls of voided steel lockers
and bolted double doors badged with A4 and bluetac
beyond the gym, beyond the hall, beyond the twin doors
cars, houses, the street, this spotlit estate
and in all those places yet another Thursday night
below the balcony the kids throw studied punches
and are careful not to hurt each other
above, the parents watch and take note of how it’s done
by Matthias Weaver
Matthias on Twitter: @meesterweever
Editor’s Note: The detailed imagery transports the reader into this poem. At first it seems like mere description, but by the last two lines, one realizes that there is a deeper lesson within the stanzas.
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