The Reconstructed

Sometimes when hiking under the weight of a pack or under my own, while walking along a ridge I slip when the incline is steep enough

Once, as a child, I was running and skid on leaves on the edge of a trail and almost tumbled down a hill

On a date, in early February in the Delaware Water Gap, I was on an icy trail, familiar to me when dry; it was difficult to stay steady on frozen ground. I, even we, were happy then.

Today, there is a pain in my knee, and the steps I take are tentative but I still take them.

The aged walk slower because I suppose there is more to lose if they fall.

Too familiar are the falling, the drama in the going down, the slower drama of the getting up

I hope I have not waited to be swept up or swept off over a threshold and carried to a verdant place where my bare feet can settle on the soil.

I hope I have not sought comfort rather than firm foundation

All my new sneakers have hurt me recently

What a luxury to say, to see these beautiful feet, to hear what they might be shouting to one another.