My Feet, I follow

Forward, I follow my feet.

Hither and thither I trudge.

Hither and thither I trounce

Forward I follow my feet until a fog I did meet.

The Great Fog greets me.

The way forward, 

the way through

Lies inside this damp, obscure cloud.

Forward still, I lead.


Forward, my feet reach 

To meet the shrouded grounds.

A shallow, cold, wet surprises my feet.

I look up from the ground, but I cannot see.

The damp, dense cloud is all around. 

I square up, 

Sharpen my posture 

To make decisive, clear 

The steps forward follow the same direction.

My feet, I follow forward. 

Clip clop, clip clop,

The fog grows cold,

A steady gait holds an ember of warmth aglow.

Clip clop, clip clop,

The damp grows cold

Soaking through my clothes.

Clip clop, clip clop,

The mist hums

a lullaby spun in silver,

Warm as surrender—

But it sings only for those it means to keep.

Clip clop, clip clop.

My feet fly forward 

Like nocked arrows

Repeatedly coiled, released, coiled-

The hum is enchanting, 

The cold slowly turning to warmth.


Distorted words, sounds of familiar laughter 

Break my posture. I think it mirages, 

But sounds of home, of warmth and joy,

The name I went by 

As a kid, my parents calling.

The way a friend 

Pronounced my name in italics,

A weird accent Vee-ctor. 

Subtle, sweet his voice, 

Something I could hear on endless repeat.

“Hun, this isn’t you.” 

The voice of an old lover calls out.

A shadow then, a shadow now.

Defiantly beguiling in this damp, shrouded place.


To chase after voices I know so well,

To forget this treacherous trek,

Change course from carefully plotted forward.

I freeze mid-stride, the echoes sing their siren's song.

Tears fill my eyes as I nod my head goodbye.

I recoil my feet, remembering the warmth that 

Held inside my stride and follow my feet.

Clip clop, clip clop.


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