cobblestones are roads well traveled
many many years ago
rounded off by cart and footfall
weathered smooth by rain and snow.
bricks laid out with sweat and mortar
packed down hard in dirt by hand
can't defy the time and torture
paced by aging of the land.
sandy paths worn in the soil
led the hunters and the prey
under woodlands lost in shadows
even through the light of day.
pavement's hot, but i remember
cooler times in days gone by
walking, riding many places
(looking back can make one cry) .
old cracked block of concrete, asphalt
glass and tires, shredded, pressed
never quite can match the splendor
of the old ways finely dressed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem