The Steps


Be a gaited breed, amble

along paths with large hips,

the location of a simple fulcrum

the point from which your body

swings to the even four beat

drumming up from the ground–

It holds your weight, soft as sand.

Watch shadows fit and blend around you

as you pick your steps over ancient geology, 

the landscape of rise and fall.

With every breath that goes deep and 

holds too much to examine,

Let the sky–

wide enough to hold clouds

and endless shades of blue, 

beyond the visible horizon,

Let the sky–

fill your eyes as you find

your pace.


*I have fallen behind on my goal of a poem a day during April but perhaps that is my pace, not quite one a day. I may have to stretch into May to make 30 poems.


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