Calvino's Words
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Sometimes I walk along this greenbelt path
Today it is a warm winter day
but it's been spring, summer, fall
The trunks of the trees change more slowly than the leaves, if at all
This used to be a track with ties like steps and a continuous rail
until someone took the many small steps to make it a greenway trail.
The feature of today is many joggers
making it look normal for there to be many joggers here.
He runs lumbering along like a log truck
swinging big arms like clubs and tromping through the mud.
She keeps to the center and parcels out tiny steps from the center of her body.
He's wrapped in spandex and mincing his movements from the hips.
She runs light but jolty, her pony tail moving in long arcs
like a playground swing.
He's propelling a baby stroller with a strong linear gait.
Looks and breathes like a cop but sounds like honey sweetie.
This old guy is built like a gorilla
his long loose upper body riding his short bow legs
like a flatcar with a loose wheel.
When I started on this path it was just a path with just some walkers walking.
Now there are stories within stories and I think a novel could be written
from this bench or the story of Civilization.
Some of the joggers are thinking "Who is that guy with his notebook?
I think I've seen him before."