Footprints

I trekked hard today. I tread

The exact path twice. Like yesterday,

I watched my steps like words

Of a line. Each day written,

A couplet calls to remember economy

In starlight halls of December astronomy

Surrounded by an approximate isoverbal prosody.

My footprints were contained and light

On the earth this winter. Someday,

I may want to pursue paths

Far away again. Eventually, I might

Need to see the world’s earth-toned,

Lightly-camouflaged secrets. I cannot clearly see

A reason to travel anywhere now.

Tomorrow, I will start traveling trustingly.

I’m now guided by generated words

Stored in electronic stations that consume

More water than all the reeds

Once cultivated to create the past’s

Papyrus sheets. Scrolls are yesterday’s internet

Signals seared. Printed books are solid

Reminders that some footprints should last.