the Walk ©1996 Richard March It’s almost six o’clock, a windy knot blows through the city gate Morning was cloudy, but the sun broke through with something more to say Met in the plaza where prophets skate and make their leaps of faith Both tired of being scared we walking shared and found a place to play The sun got brighter, I got lighter as I let go little things She grabbed the mic and pulled it down Announced the fight from center ring And to my right, in black and white it’s Kid Courageous, give him a hand And on my left in shades of grey the hometown hero, desperate man Ducking when he should have led The Kid took one hard in the head The bird flying round him said “Lighten up, Champ... cut the stiff stance... find your own dance” After the fight to be polite I held my tongue to hear her sing Through useless words already heard there flew a bird with willing wings She sang a song in phrases long of desperate hope discovering Still feeling pain and foolish fear she filled the plate of offering Growing tired from the walk she found some chalk and kneeled down In colors bold a game of old she drew while children gathered round They pleaded sweetly “won’t you teach me?” So she showed them how to play Remembering balance lost when time to take her toss she turned away And ducking when she should have led The bird felt the sting of the net The Kid in her corner said “Use your claws now... No more soft sounds... let it hang out... this is your round”.