apparel for my walk.
Care for my soles—
bare nor socked matters not.
My weight burdens down
byways toward suns, moons and stars.
The road yields, never—
Thoreau, compleat walker, he saw.
This path be now to when?—
with map or by sight.
May your souls, as well, find comfort—
day or night, lowlands or height.
by S.A. Bort
photo of Key West, FL sculpture by S.A Bort