mothball

tap tap tap,

metal heels against stone floor,

far from the forest, meadows, beaches,

where human soles once touched,

tap tap tap,

sound interrupts the band, 

we're failing to keep up with our elders,

who have held each other for fifty years,

tap tap tap,

when did we lose our access to romance,

knowing the ideal, the final goal,

but forgetting the steps to get there?

tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap,

when will we be as ancient as the linoleum tiles,

lining the parish gym?

tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

to see in fifty years or so if we'll know each step we take.