Footpaths

Footpaths       

A footstep

marked in cement

            dried fast,

            or initials

bound by choice,

            mischievous assertion:

            one rectangle

in the furlongs

            of footpaths

lined into earth.

            Houses, lots

            past gates

into parochial elysiums,

            down upgrades,

            slight inclines,

            squiggly shadows,

            cracked bases

            chunked, chipped.

Which is the way

            partly chosen,

            more accepted

for inward arguments,

torment and explanation,

            prayers, musings,

            or conversation

            with myself

and you in me.

Vague hellos to walkers,

            overturned precepts

            (boronia scents)

but not imprecations,

            salutations, pleas

to the sky,

            softest blue

            cloudy edged

            favourite deception

with few answers,

            no words.

            Shuffling petals,

            leaves, feathers

            entertain sight

but pass into earth’s

            rich enjoyment.

            Yet skies

            resolutely lovely

            cure imagination’s

despairs and fantasias

            beyond explanation,

wherever stepping goes

            light filled:

it must be.