8.15

I do the walk for me, that’s

what I tell the dog anyway.

the slow walk tonite, feeling

each step, bounce, lurch.

I do the walk to feel my body,

not natural for me, a head

person who steps out and

up but not in joy.

body, mind, spirit all a piece

I know in my head, but disparate

in the doing. nature is there

and I wave at it.

pay attention my head says as

I look up from step upon step

around my mile loop. hmmm

trees, yup, still there.

I do the walk as a penance

for all the years of not doing it

and for proof that I still can,

not gone yet.

and then I come home and sit

and take a pause and get on

with the rest of my life, the

natural parts, like writing this poem.

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