Thursday, December 26, 2019

Forever walk in Jericho Vermont - Poem

Forever walk - in Jericho Vermont

By Bernie Paquette

I took a walk in Jericho,
Vermont

My legs carried me
but my ears kept me in place.

Step one, step two
three,
and four
should have been enough
except that I could hear!

I could hear
only the crunching
the crunching under my feet
as my heel  and sole
made contact with earth -

Not smooth, nor asphalt hard
nor uniform in grade,
texture, or color
only the sound
escaping my trespass.

No line to stay in between
only a suggested path -

An occasional pop and a squish
liquid oozes into the depression of my step.
Of what I crunched, I know not
the weight of my world
too much
for that of another.

Another step, and yet another
always that crunching
over pebbles, soil, and natural debris
like chewing on popcorn
one cannot stop until the bowl is empty
for the crunching rules over all else.

Such are the only sounds I hear now
step after step after step.

Sometimes I try to walk as I Imagine Native Americans perhaps did
 with moccasins or bare feet
silently moving with the breeze beside deer and birds and bear
not adding or taking away from their chorus.

I lose my thoughts,
lose all other sounds
to the crunching under my heavy step
the soul of my feet releasing a heavy  burden
to the depression of earth
she absorbs me with heart and without discrimination
only crunching, an occasion squish or pop, then
under my step

A branch snaps with a sharp cry.
I quickly pull up my step.
Too late.
I have stepped on -
broken -
the spine
of a mountain.

The deeper in this place
-this audio-less forest
I go
the more
the crunching dominates, drives, determines my stride.
I try stopping
holding both feet
still
the breeze bending tall
forward swaying grasses
impel my feet
from constraint to compel
they struggle to understand what to do
in this strange world where they are the dominant disruption.

It is TOO MUCH
TOO SOON

Unnerved,  I quickly go back to walking
crunch, crunch, squish,
the quiet was disquieting
an alien place this
home to stealth birds, and deer and bear
I am unaccustomed to
as they are to my crunching.

Crunch, crunch,
softer now than on onset
smoother pace
gentler steps
singular
step
upon
step

between
blades
of
grass

now 
blending in

bending
twigs. 

walking 
on
air. 

I took a walk 
on a garden path
into woodlands
and lost myself. 

I took a walk in Vermont
and got lost

in miles of crunching steps
when a few
should have been enough.


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