Walk

You walk, so I walk, we go, walk real slow and

notice our feet and look up each nook, on each street,

and down as we go, thigh knee toe heel thigh toe,

stealing past history, poverty, street graffiti

eyeing every kind of eatery, we remark and

when it gets dark you hold my arm,

and are alarmed by shadows, broken pavements,

steps, and this affects the way we walk, how

we talk, what we say on our way, on our walkabout.

Published by

Julia Dean-Richards

Julia is a writer and performer living in the Shropshire hills. Her writing is a product and expression of the love she has found whilst journeying through the most difficult times of her life.

One thought on “Walk”

please feel free to comment on these poems - all feedback appreciated. :)

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