In Passing

A New View


Along the way near the side of the road

a footstep was detected, a mark of passage

this way, slow and purpose filled. Less

a stroll, more and exploration in wet sand

just washed by a rogue tide.


The scene moves like a camera moves

and no one hears the sound of a bare foot

creating an horizon. So, here you were

when I arrive and you have passed

along, leaving pawprints else I get

an urge to follow and travel there.


No one can help the sand from shifting

or make the birds walk elsewhere.

I know you were here, the smell is plain

and perfectly described in the claw marks,

in the drag of the left most digit.


I will walk here again, by this wayside

seascape and no trace of you will unravel

the puzzle of who and why. But purpose

lived here once. To be alone was not

the cause. To commune, perhaps.

Or just to pass by water and exhale

a breath of living.








Author's Notes/Comments: 

Every once in a while, a poem :D

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