Ode for You Walking By
Today I have done my best
to clear snow and ice, to make
your passage safer, a stroll
in the park—you dog walkers,
speed walkers, neighbor lady
taking your purse for every
three-times-daily trip around
the block—you stroller rollers
and arm-in-arm saunterers—
you neon-sneakered speedsters
and chunky-booted sloggers—
yes, bluetoothed dude, even you
talking as if to yourself
and pretending not to see
your dog doing its morning
business in my neighbor’s yard—
you every day make my day—
footsteps scraping, clopping a
steady beat, your back-and-forth
passing calls me to wonder
where your way wends—you give me
footprints in melted slush, path
I can follow through the muck
these weeks have left in their wake.
*