A SPRING WALK PONDERING SORT OF POEM

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Tied, tied, tied up, getting ready for tomorrows poetry talk, so I'm not doing the prompt, I'm just doing something short.

SPRING WALK TO ZUCKERBURG ISLAND 

ALONG THE MILLENNIUM WALKWAY

River's low—

with sand to walk on, 

hiking boots 

not bare feet.

Sun warms 

but doesn't bake, 

peels layers off overdressed me.

I'm walking with the dead today, 

with Daniela who, 

only a few weeks ago 

was looking to buy a bike,

whose daughter will know her

through stories and pictures

as she flourishes, grows.

And I'm walking with Dalia

who taught me, who came from

a people who didn't then,

that it's okay to hug,

whose grandchildren will know her 

through stories and pictures 

that will have to do.

Current's swift—

wouldn't want to wade in too far. 

Sometimes living feels that way

but we splash in, regardless,

sinking, swimming,

and one way or another

we make it to shore.

Free verse. Four alternating four-, then three-line stanzas. Yet another exploration of this thing called life. We'll call it a Crosfieldian.

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