Canterbury Thoughts on my Way to Work
Mindy M. Wara Maciolek
March 11, 2013
The cool March sun begins to break through the thick traffic.
Weathered ice, gritty with sand, leads me from the parkade.
Tailored suits and peacoats drift past as they shuffle in masses
to board meetings with their smart phones in hand.
Pilgrims weathered grooves into Canterbury steps,
polishing the marble with their knees.
They carried burdens instead of briefcases,
and relics instead of flash drives.
The ice, heavy underfoot, is worn with daily footprints
and shows no sign of melting.