the Gods are too tall to see the landscape pass
a tip-toe perhaps at times through quiet country lanes
under cover of ragged cloak and greying matted hair
it seems to me there is a beauty in the simple act of walking
a pleasure to be discovered in the coordinated motion of
one foot in front of the other
there is perhaps a joy to be found as well in
letting go of foolish notions regarding proper behavior
to skip joyfully down the street
with a beaming, silly smile and laughter echoing off of trees and crumbling facades
there are days where I thank the heavens for driveways
cherishing the need to traverse them for sake of bins to the brim with stinking trash
delighted by birds and rabbits which do not seem concerned for the necessity of my task
are we as gods in the end after all
far from the world in clouds and mysterious glow
lonely by way of our own “power”?
Objects, and the Distance Between Them 