5 August 2014

Without Legs

"But the beauty is in the walking- we are betrayed by destinations." ~ Gwyn Thomas

Without legs,
all the footpaths die,
the public footpaths, the pavement footpaths.
Soccer stands still, boots get decayed in the shops,
the playground remains unused by mud.
Without legs, no footprints fall ashore
and waves never get to dissolve them.

Without legs,
my father doesn't travel far
to chop firewood fro the dusk
or to fetch water from a distance
when the tap fails to call.
During leisure,
my mother doesn't visit woodlands
to collect leaves and mushrooms
or teaches me to walk gingerly
among the seedlings sowed in spring.
Without legs,
I don't go to see friends
when they ring to me
or go for a jog before sun.
Without legs,
my brother tells me not to untie his shoelace
or asks me to play ball with him.
Without legs,
my sister doesn't play 'am i right'
or tells me to help her with muddy legs.

Without legs,
all the footpaths die
the public footpaths, the pavement footpaths.
Cars stop. Buses stop. Trucks stop.
Gangs never come in moonlit night
to kick their foes
or to rob others' gold.

Without legs, this world will stop walking.

0 comentários:

Post a Comment