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I follow footsteps, the old dead, stricken
by the unchanging likeness of the shore
and a moon in perpetual eclipse.
The sea, caught between tides, cathartic flood
tides or tides of blood, beats solemn and flawed.
In step, I draw the same difficult breath,
barely in and out, but not out of step,
timepiece for the long forgotten. The tock
of heart against lung hovers, fails, repeats
itself in expected revolutions,
a crow's spiral at the revelation
of carrion. The footsteps of the old
dead plot a course etched in sun-fused sand, bonedry,
brittle and temple deep, safe only
Dalton N. In Step. Ann Intern Med. ;117:792. doi: 10.7326/0003-4819-117-9-792
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Published: Ann Intern Med. 1992;117(9):792.
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Print ISSN: 0003-4819 | Online ISSN: 1539-3704
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