Walking

Walking

by Cam M. Roberts

Am I to say this
so it be colloquial, 
or must I assent to mistake
myself with an asserted lyric,
a semantic twist which will distort
the essential image, or a turn of phrase
that may very well placate
the strangest crowd
with planar, perhaps
flat sensibilities?

How’s that for a disclaimer?
He is known to ask superfluous questions.

You know you’re in for either a real treat
or a long, tiresome ride
when you hear
the phrase:
Walk with Me
sandwiched between two sets of ellipses –

Spoken more with the half-furrowed eyes
than with the voice made feeble on purpose.  
In most cases, it bespeaks:
as a matter of urgency
or
let me be perfectly understood.
 
This walk wherein you sense the idea of lingering
Within such a moment, you feel
as though you’ve forever
lost an invaluable friend
to the evils of separation,
even when
they’re right beside you:
Walking.  

[The shadow of the axe
sways in the foreboding gallows.]

It strangles your will to express yourself,
and what is Love without expression? 

I remember
the most uplifting note
I’ve ever received on a poem,
It is written on the very margin,
under the final stanza,
in purple ink: 

A wonderful,
beautiful poem.
You get at nature 
in a very gentle
way, like it was a 
dog you found abused
and so took it in.  

 

© CMR, 2013
Advertisements

5 thoughts on “Walking

Comments are closed.