Walking the Walk
By Gerald Solomon

To hike wavering unfinished hills,
drop down to solitary roads, hamlets.
twilight, shut doors, silence...

Watch a big crow strut his place on earth
eyeball a sky-line, bits of road-kills.
No animal asks which way to turn...

In this docile college of ours,
blackboards, white equations, unfeeling math.
You might say puns of numbers = dearth...

I know how Scott and his men eyed the crevasse.
at night stared at nebula fuzz, appalled.
In space a shout for help never to be heard...

Alone on a long walk, think of Everyman.
Trots at your side, human, cheerful, talkative,
and the usual clichés of faith, more's the pity.