Walk

Rerouted footpaths

the sun's passacaglia

on the stuck asphalt

I smell the sea

and I'm in the suburbs

making praise on the day

tearing up the street

the earthmovers and the jackhammers

banished of historical trove

no need to disturb the birds

they racketeer the branches

moving songs by the ton

paving over the cracks

a tree's roots has mocked up

"pedestrians this way"