Free are we to walk
Free are we to stop
watch
think
and move.

Free are we to talk
and stalk the matter in the shadows,
the dirt that has no imprint,
the door that’s never closed
but never opened wider,
the iron scaffold that submits to nature
and loses identity to become bark
roots
leaves
decay.

Free are we to walk towards it.
Free are we to make friends with something that stands as we do
in the same plot of dirt
and beckons to be acknowledged
by the life it once housed
and gave it reason.

Free are we to walk towards it.