The Jogger’s Pearl

A prized pearl it must be
That casts a silky radiance
Flattered by the morning sun.
Housed and chained in gold
But in this ritual for fitness,
It was flung around the neck
To dangle behind a sweaty back
Like a mistress;
Unseen by those who greet,
Envied by those who follow.
His meeting with the beach,
Is told by his sneakers spilling sand.
His morning ritual over
He stops at the lights,
Ready to cross,
He starts another ritual
With his head in a cloud
Of cigarette smoke.

© Chan Joon Yee