So there you
go—not even terribly
unceremoniously—
out there,
and therefore
straight-
up after cagey old
H.D. Thoreau—who sauntered
alone
purposefully,
and never
to actually get
to some sort
of holy land—
but rather, only
to go there;
whereas—you,
on the other hand,
can't help
but detect more often
loneliness—
and fairly
acutely
at that—because half
of your walks
still get
tallied as—the whole entire
goddamn walk back.
