Every day now

I walk

It’s that time of year
When summer breezes
Are beginning to whisk away
That omnipotent fog of pollen
That mustard-stain colored haze of stress
That soaks the air
Of schooldays

Every day now
I travel the same broken sidewalks
My soles find the same weathered footfalls,
The same dear dilapidated dwellings,
Amid that neighborhood of concrete,
That jagged sprawl

The same old paths
I walked as a toddler
Waddling over the ruts, rivets, and ravines
Taking twice as many steps
But the placement still routine

It’s that soft time of day
Where bubbling up through the cracks
In the hardened cement,
memories melt
into the rough carpet of the present

Here it is I walk
But meanwhile my mind wanders
From the crumbling hilltop trails of the past
To the narrow cave tunnels or
polished golden walkways of the future

I look down to watch my step
But my feet know the way
amongst those same broken sidewalks
And I wonder
Will they ever stray