The hollow sound of steps on concrete
as I move through quiet halls,
walking with a mood of purpose,
striding forward without pall.
Thinking of the crunch of leaves
in autumns’ past on wooded malls,
Shuffled red and brown debris
whispering with their ruffled brawl.
Memories of a trail in snow
with silence mid footfall,
or sloshing on the coastal sand
the tides erasing tread and scrawl.
The running gait on playground fields
and rhythmic marching bands recalled
echoing their pace and chorus
clapping, steps from those enthralled.
All this sound and vision walking
as I move through vacant halls,
listening at the sound of knocking
of my own steps, from wall to wall.