Road waking has its own

Rhythm

A.steady cadence

No need to look at

Where feet touch the ground

Clear      still

early morning air and sky.

With some reverence

and regularity

I step onto the berm

When occasional cars

Pass either or both ways

Heavy trucks carrying milk or oil,

Rumble for a while

then thunder past.

Car tyres hum their own tune,

Giving wide berth

to three solitary walkers

In a close or spread out line.

The zoom of motorbikes

taking the centre line

because they can.

Then ZAP! an insect’s near-collision

with my ear.

The chatter of friends behind me

muffled by distance

gained through different walking pace.

Treasures found and left on the verges

Bottles, plastic wrappers,

a most good-looking spoon

the body only of a tiny

toy police car

a car mat

glass..

Other lives

Intersecting with mine

For brief and fleeting

Moments