I feel fine as long as I am walking.

Forward of a kind, any kind,

Is best.

But when I stop

I itch and stir

And scrape and scratch

To start again.

To the borders!

To the very edges!

Right up to the horizon

And into the sun.

If there is no one to follow

I will be fine

Just let me go.

If no one comes

I will hardly notice

Just let me lead

--Even a march of one.

Because as long as I am walking

I am not here.

Here or there.

Both are places

Of static and station.

We who are always leaving

Hold neither.

And neither will ever hold us.

Move and breathe.

Walk and keep on walking.

Walking. Walking. Fading.