Down the Middle

Down the Middle

(“Put up with each other, and forgive anyone who does you wrong, just as Christ has forgiven you.” Colossians 3:13)

I walked down the middle of the street just to
see how the traffic flowed. I walked against
the oncoming cars and left the crosswalks behind.
I walked toward the beginning to see the
source of the stream, where everyone was going,
where they came from, what was the scene at
the mouth of it all.

Later and later the sun convened its rays,
so I shielded my eyes from the western glow
while I walked up the middle of the road
just to see how the traffic flowed.

I am told there is a place where everything starts,
a home, a domicile, a castle, a studio,
and parking lots full of empty automobiles
waiting overnight for the forage of the morning.

I walked along the center of the highway
waiting for the law to keep me from my way
and send me to the shoulder or the sidewalk where
feet are meant to be.

I wanted to find the zenith,
for I knew the bottom-rock well.
I hoped to discover the king of the traffic,
the teller who directs these glaze-dayed journeys alone.

I hoped to find (out of my mind)
a director, a manager, who understood why
I had chosen

To walk barefoot up the middle of the road.