Once I walked unwalked dust
working my way within
the dark fall of stars.

Now I humble cool nights
breathing my words with
silent visible syllable.

Then was when muscles
were young and ached
their willed exertion.

Now will is a young dog
running a far hillside
I am too tired to climb.

Now I walk the walked dust
working my way within
my dark fall to stars.

Decades have spun gray dust
into an old beard that curls
itself around my moonlit smile.