The Walker

On a small island, I’m the character
In the city, I don’t matter
A country home gives me anonymity
Neighbors question with ambiguity
Who is the lady walker
Sometimes talker
Rain or shine I make my rounds
I see stories unfold
Of young and old
Babies arrive
Dogs die
Always alone, I keep the peace
Even when I’ve called the police
From their windows they notice
If I fail to show
They will know.

Continue reading The Walker at Abbe Rolnick.