The shadow of a boxer

On the edge of shadows
with lidless amber watchful eyes
we play and prance; two boxers
me and him; we circle tiptoe; wait.

Soft like snow
our footfalls with retracted claws.
Our dance is fluid; mirror motioned;
endless, darkly bright.

I wonder how the mirror lies and why
the shadows speak to me?
Is this a battle or my scream?

It burns; it burns; those eyes of his;
exhaustion fills my eyes with sand.
I whisper (plead): “Please let me sleep”;
but he just echoes: “…sleep” and time wears
concrete shoes and pass like syrup poured.

My doppelganger leaves at dawn,
and daylight glosses warmth on
grayness of my skin

Richard Humphreys, The Boxer by John Hoppner

I thought that this could fit the prompt of Shay… my doppelganger is someone I see but no one else. To read more visit toads
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October 6, 2017

11 responses to “The shadow of a boxer

  1. Hex! We both went for the Doppelganger! Both my father and predecessor of my grandfather (his namesake) Tom Sayers were boxers. Tom was a famous bare fist boxer from Sussex, where my grandfather came from. Most people called my father Tom too.I love where this poem took you, Bjorn – shadowboxing.

  2. Vivid and all too real, Bjorn–this is not a twin one wants to spend time with, and I wonder what part of the speaker pulls on him to come fight.

  3. Wonderfully bleak and vivid.

    I love some of your phrases —
    Our dance is fluid; mirror motioned;
    endless, darkly bright.

    I wonder how the mirror lies and why
    the shadows speak to me?

    Indeed.

    Namaste
    JzB

  4. Doppelganger or alter ego, they are consantly shadowing our moves, sometimes getting the upper hand, especially when there is a possibility of daring do and I jealously see their actions in my dreams.

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