WALKING

No matter how hard he tries
to reason
with his uglier half
he knows the time is come again
for walking.
Resigned to it
he takes the great iron boots
from his closet
fastens them clanging
to his feet, first right
then left
eyes closed
down the steps – will they hold?
They do.

A mighty effort
over the threshold
down the walkway
raising great clouds of dust
out into sleepy fields
letting them have their way now
counting each crushing step
one hundred
five hundred
a thousand.
Heavy with innocent gore
they bring him back
to his front door at last
release him
for a brief interval
allow him to rest
until it’s time
to go walking again.