Long are our walks, morning and evening,
Some mental walks, hearty walks, city walks.
There are walks, talk walks, like talk going on
In waking limbs, body thinking under the skull.

Body merely thinks as its mind which walks
Like a hundred-footed worm, a goods train
Of a hundred steel boxes on unending track
The mountains walk unendingly to the horizon
And the horizon walks unendingly to the sky.

Words walk, spirit walks, our hands go up
In the night air in vertical sky breaking walk.
Chilly fields walk and up down with the train
As also the blue bush birds on phone wires
The bridge noisily walks away from the train.


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