street scenes make me want to travel —
to walk worn, winding cobblestone alleys
in out-of-the-way towns —
going nowhere in particular
while imagining their ancient origins
was this a cow path three thousand years ago?
a footpath through a small village two thousand years ago?
I want to walk up and down steps
carved by endless feet
into the shape of a vague smile —
smiling all the while at the impermanence of stone
surrounded by reminders of the past
and a long gone multitude of others
I feel at once fragile, delicate, and small —
meandering with this body
one more passing along —
conscious yet ephemeral
