Perambulation
Nov 2 2024
I can’t remember when
I last just walked.
Not to or for.
Not the dogs.
And not the 10,000 steps
they recommend I do.
Not to take in the sun, air, view,
and not out;
although I also can’t recall
a movie bad enough.
Just remember
walking up the stairs,
around the yard,
from car to mall
and back.
But ever aimlessly, receptively, unhurriedly?
A flaneur
open to serendipity.
Perhaps lost
but unconcerned.
Or just to see how far
before the sun sets
my legs give out.
To mosey, amble, wander,
roam, ramble, saunter,
traipse, toddle, stroll.
Or promenade;
which makes it sound as delightful
as a light-hearted dance.
If the only worthwhile life
is lived with purpose,
does walking for its own sake serve?
The body
an automaton
one step at a time,
and the mind free to wander
watching the world pass by.
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