On the Matter of the Stillness of a Walk

by Robert Nersesian

On the matter of the stillness of a walk
the intent of the seeker must prevail,
take all that is offered and then some—
like when the Pooh Bear feasts on a honeycomb.
We’re talking footfalls here and little hammer toes
crinkling the knitted twigs, kicking up second-thought mines along the dirt.
Swinging the arms might give the game away
to a distant debutante who can read semaphore.
Head must align and heels lift in the unison of a choir
chosen by the elder deacons of desire.
Watch the pilgrim grow tiny in our lens,
though not diminished somehow, but instead
pushing memory down that path—a hawker of the fanciful,
tiptoeing out of the earth.