The Long Walk
I can no longer keep up,
your steps far outpace mine.
My gait is now
barely a notch up
from a shuffle. My feet ache.
I watch you bound off
into the distance, powering
yourself towards some set goal
that clicks the kilometers over
until your mark is reached
and you come back.
My distance is meager,
measured within the circumference
drawn around a seat,
a vantage point warranting a stop
to take in the view. I sit
and survey the places I've been
and imagine places where
I would like to go but now,
never will. My thoughts float
the river and ride the tides
going out and then
coming in.
We stroll back,
you slowing your stride
to stay in lock with mine,
the distances we each walk
getting further
and further apart,
yet after all this time,
we still arrive home together,
as we did at the start.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
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