Somnambulist

The fact of walking:
destination undecided
music spooling both ears
like those days from park reservoir
to the Met as the flowers
on the trees unfurled, the world astride
on waves of my reverie,
to plant one roving foot
on pavement's immediacy
pressing ambition to
concrete, bodies swirl
and buzz around traffic lights,
the other foot floating down
its heel with rumination:
It's both and all,
joy and never enough, 
thought misdirected,
direction misgiving
which we trail, some
paces behind where I slow
because the light from the trees
is just right