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.
aplaceforpoetry 
🙂