Dust Walk
Dust from the road swept up embraces the walker ©
Copyright 1999, Douglas Decicco, 181 Dogwood Lane, South Windsor, CT
- This poem may be duplicated and distributed freely provided the
following three restrictions are adhered to during the duplication
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With ancient memory of time before life was breathed in.
He knows his destiny without the Breather too well
As each plod of the foot kicks up more of the past.
Infant child reaches for eyes fixed in the blurred dark
Knowing without ever looking into the mirror
That what is reached for is a piece of itself missing,
And it is the reaching in the end that saves.
Penitent prostrate cries against the dusty road
Deposits teared droplets on a trail of essentially dust.
A spotted trail worth following.
Fine to reach the pool where all tears eventually come.
Laugh at the dust forgiven in the mirror, not as a jest,
but as the jester finally finding peace in being the clown.
It is the forgiveness itself that reeks of absurdity.
With each chuckling inhale take in the life again.
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