Contributor: John Dorn

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If I could measure our moments
in footsteps,
in vistas we've seen,
streets crossed without silence
all ideas interwoven with quick salience
while feet trace trails,
trace places
like the field of oaks
like the bypass
(before it was built)
like lover's drop, its steep incline
Dowd, old town, down town
the rose gardens
the bike trails
that run through our old ville–

If I could trace
every movement
we spent walking, talking
see them all
in perfect clarity

I'd still be game for a hike
still be open
to talking about the stars
about work
about the slights,
the fights
the terrors
tremors
joys
of life.

Life–
ever unfolding.

Life–
all the memories
all the living
that comes
between footsteps.


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