Immobilized is a word
I would never use
to describe the feet that pound
on stone and kick at water.
But you, concrete,
you immobilize me.

There seems to be no end
to train tracks winding
through green countrysides and
sodden urban sprawls.
But you, red and green,
halt the locomotion.

In me a steam rises to feed
and fade, to heat and precipitate.
In me, toes must grip ground
and soles must crack on super-
heated asphalt streets
because there is no rest.

For the wicked whips the good
and frenzied to walk
walk and walk and roll
over hills, mountains, marshes
bogs, down tunnels
and caves of limestone.

I must feel the rain
that is your hand in mine
and see the stop sign
that is your smile.
Please, I've traveled
all this way.


Copyright 2011 Cristina Cheng