#2,653 I walk very well
I am in my playground from
forty-nine years ago – dusk’s
cooling slides & see-saws of
breaths – risen scent of mud
& turned rot on this path – A
half century of esse retained
as a worn journal [re-writ by
my moment] – now read out
on exhale – less teeth & slow
[but I leap from a fallen tree
& land without being a fool –
God’s watch] – I have circled
nothing certain – a hill & line
to Uckfield – sleepers slimed
by a winter – train faces stare
at ugly houses – extended by
un-loveables for a gain – less
attractive under added eave
& brick – I steer east from my
fear of profiteers – trust none
of them [back to schelp & all
that unloved mud] – my map
on my phone confirms it all –
I’m not lost – I walk very well