Bearing

I would like to study your bowed legs—
to place the left against a yardstick,
to measure with level and plumb line the divergence.
I have seen how you walk with careful care of the air around you,
the gentle tube of space you ride from place to place.
Have you minded the turning of your pants?
Have you seen them call out with their shape, We are Yours!

Wander your path, legs; make your carefree comedy.
With your gentle arc you inspire a devoted art.