I stopped, yesterday
and have stopped ever since,
walking
in this forest
of your tracks
tracing
your shoeprints
They are but now discontinued
Only your sneakers remain,
the green ones
amongst the brownness of leaves
without you, your feet in them
their soles barely touch the ground
I’ve kept your memory
through the faces of those prints,
Changing moods as you go,
sharp and deep in cool afternoons
of rain
light and faint as filtered sun
in warm dry mornings
There are none of those faces
to follow now
new ones,
mark a different path
But they are
no longer
you
And I,
with a foot
raised
in a pause,
can
no longer
take another step.
