Watching Her Walk
Her presence moves
frail bent, head down
with a bow-strung gait
eyes fixed to pavement
Stopping, darting eyes
see something bothersome
a crack; a cautious step
moves her forward again
At first, heads turned
eyebrows cocked, curiously
watching her walk
watching that walk
A respectful 'hello Mary'
is usually heard
aging fast each year
less attentive
forgetful, slow
its a small town
people know.
Occasionally, a ride is offered
turned down... fearfully so
for dim eyes see strangers
if a familiar voice is heard
still, rides are waved off
with a polite, 'no thanks'
Now its just a kick of a can
to fourth Street and Beaver Avenue
where the once alluring presence
of the shapely young Slovak
with enchanting eyes
once played and walked
Back then, heads turned
captured eyes stared...
appraisingly
watching her walk
watching that walk
A relishing 'Hello-Mary'
was frequently heard
prettier each Year
un-assuming
un-forgetful
its a small town
young men know
Since then
much water has flowed
now she prays... always
praying and walking
especially...since Pete's gone
now up there...waiting
for her, she knows
Mary without Pete
This small town knows
She prays for us all
fervently
she prays for herself
un-knowingly
For the air, even
thanks are greatly given
by breathing deeply
Thank you Lord
for your air
that I breath
without knowing
each breath in
moves the right foot
each breath out
moves the left
A rhythmic cadence
a Prayer walking
is what is odd
This peculiar
gritty gait
is what
people
see.
Pete watches
from up there
looking down
watching her walk
watching that walk
His 'Hello My Mary'
is nearer each year,
Her presence is a bit
closer each year
Her tireless gait
takes that narrow way
up that well trod path
walk, un-forgetful
in a small mill town
its a small town
a town God knows
poem by George Vuyakovich
Added by Poetry Lover
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