Classic Poem

Walk, walker, that you may stamp out,
With the pressure of your walking feet,
The lines of unrest that track your brow
Like muddy footprints on the street.

Walk on, walk off the questioning
Of uneasy feet; walk to repress
Not only your footsteps but the pang
Of more enduring restlessness.

Time your feet of life to ease
Concern with immortality;
As too much wind, or too much rain,
Dulls an old longing for the sea.