Poetry

A Short Essay on Walking

Why so many words for it? Did we borrow them or steal them? Stow them in the holds of ships? Which ones marched in with the Romans? Which ones from the tribes they fought? Does one ever simply walk? Don’t we all aspire to stride or (chirpily) attempt a strut? Don’t we swagger, even stagger, according to the time of night. Let’s just saunter out and dawdle. Surely there is time to waste? A dash will never catch this poem. A jog is rising off the graph. Words like stumble, lurch or limp will come in their good time perhaps.…

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