Walk Poem by L. Gurdian

A diffident path, scarce-treaded.
It winds not, it heeds not.
Lest for one as I should long to jaunt — I,

an imaginary man,
on imaginary road,
Lo, the Libertine and Free surrender?

An imaginary man,
with imaginary lips,
May he kiss the sanguine ember?

May the man, imagine,
Purse his lips upon the ember,
walk the path release the fender,
by the kiln and coal remember,
every languid lie and bender,
lay there naked, nigh, and tender.

Nigh and tender.
Hip and bone and socket member,
Upon a purled pleading path,
behold, a Mender?

Imaginary men,
With imaginary boots,
On imaginary roads,

Queer in gait,
and tongue since tempered,
Whence they come,
They do now,
gentler.