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Tap, tap; click, click,
That's the rhythm of my stick.
Inner, outer shoreline,
Step between them, mighty fine.
Safe behind the swinging arc,
Feet advancing in the dark.
That's the theory, anyway,
foot forward, fence and play
Trouble is, as all can see,
They very seldom think of me.
Left, right, on I go,
Best foot forward, heel and toe.
I hit a lamppost fair and square,
What on earth's it doing there?
It's on the inside of the track.
I wish to God they'd put it back.
Tap, tap, hear my sound,
Clear the way, please give ground.
Woman rushing down the street
Gets my cane between her feet.
Down she clatters, bags and all,
And sits there dazed by her great fall.
Broom, broom, the cars dash past,
I wish they wouldn't drive so fast!
From a driveway exits Ford,
Driver pauses, eyes on road,
Fails to check for walking blind,
Thump, I hit his car behind.
Stick pokes underneath his wheel,
I feel it twisting like an eel.
Off he goes and leaves me sick,
My compass bent like hockey stick.
Heave, ho! twist it straight,
Find the crossing, stand and wait.
Traffic noise like battle's din,
I fight the terror down within.
Juggernaut comes roaring, shaking.
The ground beneath my feet is quaking.
I hope to God he pulls up right,
nd doesn't try to jump the light.
All clear to cross? Hang on a minute!
That's not the crossing bleeper, is it?
Hell no, get back! You're quite mistaken,
That's the bleep, a shop door's making.
Tap, tap, click, click,
That's the echo of my stick.
I hear the doppelganger's tread,
Striding forward, head to head,
As in a mirror you might view
The public self, that's never you.
I don his air of nonchalance
And sally forth to take my chance,
But when the echoes are no more,
I part with him and close the door.