Boot Prints In
The Dust
afternoon heat
the coolness in the shadow
of the menhir
a breeze ripples the grass
as the clouds drift by
a field walled
by loosely stacked rocks
harvested from the field
at the brook—
he picks the smoothest stones
for his gold fish bowl
the worn out steps
of the castle's stairs
the crackling voice
"one giant leap for mankind"—
boot prints in the dust
