The Dance of the Plague Walkers


Always alongside never behind 

Occasionally in front; he walked with a mule

A dusty old man, pack on back, for the mule was free from such enforced chores

Grey of beard, hair in ears, leathered tanned skin, barefoot, cracked nails. Single tears flowing from wind dried eyes

The mule wanted to rest awhile. Up at around 600 metres he guessed, a view over the plains onto the sea. He’d also rest awhile, see what came to mind. It was his favourite time of day- the without and within mixing it up. Sometimes nothing came, sometimes ordered thoughts, feelings, sensations made sense of a moment. Other times it was a kind of random jumble. All he had to do was notice, let it be.

Woke up this morning

Got them locked in blues

Said a dusty old man with no shoes

Here comes something

I can see the trees for the breeze

The sky from on high, 

mountains to climb as fantails fly

Paths with no footprint

Rocks with no blood

Her intentions are clear

Not misunderstood

Locked out, locked down, locked in

As Tim Leary might have said

Yea I woke up this morning

Got them locked in blues

My goodness

Burnished bumblebee with burnt orange pollen struggles against a soft soap sanity breeze imploring the earth to turn

Down on the plains in clear view humans emerge to throw away their threedom on fast food queues

Short trip lives on a long drop landscape

and its

One two three

Look and see

one two three

Bend your knee

One two three

Slide to the side

One two three

As the tramper glides by

It’s the dance of the plague walkers

Gotta find a way to cure them

Gonna put on my tramping shoes

That’s harder than you think right now

He was wearing no shoes at this time because the mule had bitten the hand that helped feed it, now he couldn’t tie a loop for his laces. He’d forgotten how important a thumb was

Time feels like a cut finger

It’s functions unheeded until damaged

It ain’t no universal construct

Ebbing, flowing  managed

Not by office building or appointment

Just acceptance, engagement

A world outside not within 

Here it comes again, a blessing, for he’d no idea what that was all about

One two three

Look and see

And one two three

Bend your knee

One two three

Slide to the side

One two three

the tramper glides by

It’s the dance of the plague walkers

I can feel the earth trembling

Pushing up towards the sky

Can you feel the earth trembling

Pushing up towards the sky?

Gonna plant my feet upon her

Gonna ride that natural high

He looked up and saw grey sea shell clouds sucking up the white stuff. The temperature began to cool, likewise the mule. The way ahead looked stony and rough. The mule anticipated, snorted, setting off alone.

A dusty barefoot old man soon followed.