an easy pace
to keep.
after work blues can
be outrun simply by
walking them away,
slower is better.

old folks drive down
to the cliffs,
emerging from classic cars,
hitting their orthopedic
shoes upon cobblestone
and tender pavement.

we often find ourselves
following each other,
same trails—same times,
out on these cliffside streets
and cramped sidewalks
there is a molasses rhythm.

so scurry along you
young rascals,
so many drums beating
over the course of a
late and long afternoon,
we may out-age these moments.

i have rushed through
years with challenges,
heavy feet on pedals,
rugs pulled out from under me,
always running without
returning looks behind.

so these old geezers
understand life,
so i try to know how
they got there—slowly,
to keep
an easy pace.

© Conor J. Josten