Stuck to the heel of a shoe
Dirt
This is the aleph
A tiny syllable of observation
And a universe of meaning
When attached to moving people
The subtext of passed lives and passed hopes
Or lack thereof
So it is that when you and you and you are still
You are still... moving
And instead of moving on
I observe shoes
Each wear betrays a past
A history of paths walked
Of puddles not entirely avoided
Of litter that has been scuffed to the curb
And then, having entered a car
That is appropriate to the style of footwear
The right heel worn down with the remembered curve of the wheel well
Gas, brake, Gas Break
A long distance driver’s heel curve is more profound
Gas for twenty clicks, brake at the bend.
Gas for 5 clicks on the 1 in 50 grade
And grinding to make the sunrise delivery
So different to the cabbies heel
The inner city heel and toe
Stop and start
Chasing perfectly timed lights
Avoiding fights
But not eye contact
And different from the rolling right hand
Soccer mum, cross training
Picket fence of an indoor/outdoor runner
Never worn out
Barely broken in
Discarded before they betray anything
Smelling only faintly of regret
Pedestrian lives
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