Shoulds piled up like rubble;
Left the onlooker
To gaze; wondering.
What was the old building
He had walked or run.....
Passed everyday?
Run.... Now there was a thing
His legs had not tried
In longer than he
Cared. Oh to care as much
Or as little as
The young who saw him
Now and then; held his hand;
One to whom he told
His secret, as he
Once did to the ocean.
Anticipation
Stirred his very bones
And the once dry dust of
A dream he thought dead
Breathed, with lungs of life.
Like Kalahari sands
When rains come at last,
Hope was rekindled.
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