One day, you will have no choice but to walk,
the punctured tire of these times behind you
on a road brimming with sunlight & dust.
The clarity of movement, followed by
exhaustion. The clarity of exhaustion.
Your feet hurt, & you can’t hear the river.
The only question is whether you are
a refugee or a tourist. Or dead.
They think you’re their mother, & you may be—
stranger things et cetera. Did you plan
for this, or did it come over you like
a song whose title you can’t remember?
Stop breaking down. It’s a boast disguised as
a plea. It went like that, now it’s like this.
There’s no one ahead but your shadows,
all your shadows, searching for a still pond
to ripple & reflect. To float instead
of trudge. To rest. The only question, is.
Gregory Crosby is the author of Said No One Ever (Brooklyn Arts Press, 2021) and Walking Away From Explosions in Slow Motion (The Operating System, 2018).
Image: dreamstime.com
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