Sunday, March 29th, 2015
Putting one foot in front of the other
a day, each day
is bound to lead somewhere.
I clop, clop across,
a wooden walking bridge
spanning the Minnehaha Creek
something I lost.
I can no longer do giant swings on a high bar
or flying summersaults
or even run any significant distance,
but I can train to walk up a 19,000 foot mountain
and feel the same satisfaction at the summit.