Walking
I go walking barefoot every night.
I want to feel the path my life follows:
the touch of dew of the new green grass,
the crisscrossing pine needles, thin and sharp,
the brittle brush of bushes, piercing
the pads of my feet.
All of it, all of it, I want to feel
so I might know where I go
as the heart of the earth
beats strong beneath my feet,
guiding each step, leading the way
to the End of Days.
Cynthia Pitman has had poetry or prose published in Amethyst Review, Saw Palm: Florida Literature and Arts (Pushcart Prize nominee, 2019), Third Wednesday (contest finalist), Vita Brevis, Leaves of Ink, Ekphrastic Review, Adelaide Literary Review, Right Hand Pointing, Dual Coast Magazine, and others. Her poetry collection, The White Room, is forthcoming.
