Thursday, 10 November 2011

To The Person Two Feet In Front

Your two feet walk the pavement,
Half the pace of my two feet; we never meet
As your two feet turn right
And my two feet don't.
We never meet, as you disappear
A bin lorry stops in the street,
Letting me pass
With gratitude I greet,
As another set of feet tread peddles,
In his fine bin-lorry shell, roaming the street.
Altogether we are alone.
Always,
One lonely car, van, man,
Figure; silent
In summer sun, spring rain;
Autumn grey or winter sleet.
We never meet,
No, nothing as we greet,
Just listening to the melody,
The harmony
Wheels on the street,
The dance of our two feet.

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