Well trodden

There are at least three pianos 

within two minutes from where I stand 

but my song is stuck in my throat 

because if I open even a little,

who knows if I will sound like 

a gurgling creek or a screeching hawk?

.

I swallow my song again and have no idea

if my walk will become more comfortable 

or more painful – is there a point 

where I can tell the difference?

.

I am at that well-worn place 

where I do not know what to do 

so I keep… doing… walking… sort of 

like a fish that will die without swimming 

but I am not afraid of dying, just the 

stopping part of it all. I hope to go on.