One tall, one shorter, one dark, the other lighter. One, long-legged in blue jeans and sneakers, keeping time with the other, in yoga pants, tank-topped and wearing ballet-like slippers. Two step. The two were in step. Walking, together.
Matching steps, each laughed, as they shared a sidewalk. The walk is important. If you want to know me, first walk with me. They shared air, space, time, the time it takes to get there. This will be a memory.
Walk with me, let’s see where they go. You dance, I’ll run; you walk, I’ll skip. Together. Different and the same. They, and then we, get to the corner.
Turning right in step, they, and we, soldiers of conversation watch the traffic, careful not to become a casualty. Negotiating curbing, turning here.
Thanks for not letting me walk this path alone, but this is my stop.
You continue ahead; we will meet again. There can be no again, if there is not a first.
First, come, walk with me.
Do you walk alone or together?
What do you see around you when you walk?
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