The sick are not on the path –
not the dying,
the undiagnosed illness saunters past,
the diseased gene.
The path is for the healthy, or the fat.
The families. Fathers with babies in back packs.
Mothers in slouchy hats.
Out come the SAKATAS –
because toddlers are always hungry when there is no shop nearby.
Fluorescent Nike, Campagnolo cyclist cap.
A family of four each with a different coloured shoe.
Things go on beneath the skin, in the innards.
Under cloth.
Breathable cloth hides ulcers, bruises, marks.
Absorbent dressings soak up fluid, discharge.
Bow legged men.
A dropped credit card found on the path. A collective What to do?
the chook house 
I have been on that path… carrying a surfboard.
LikeLike
love it
LikeLike