I hop onto the empty cart – which I will see as
an elemental way to travel on this journey of
delivering – and in that I have a vehicle for
exploring which is this: the spring in the step
was my clever-clogs movement, but what if
the rest is just accidental? And if all that I am
is in the thinking these words are the wheels
to momentum in writing, travelling from here to
there is going to be more than just the tour.
It will be when and wherever I arrive, coming
to a sure stop or drifting by having just missed
how the movement in a number of lines took me.
Did you follow this? That is the obvious question
as is the ending that only just nears its temptation.