Waking and Walking (A Poem)

it is hard, rising again
to your feet where you left them
shrouded in the grass still and sinking
inch by inch in the dirt,

slower still finding your footprints, the one
& the other trailing before you
browned & flattened, before the wind
wipes clear the field, and you are lost.

it is hard to again find your step,
the left & the right, the forward
motion uncertain of the falling & rising
and how it never stops,

slower still knowing
your way (blind and silent once the step
after last is taken) how steps come
to steps, to field's edge, into

the town where you are unknown, the people
watching you, walking too;

you each offer your bread, your bodies,
your hurt and your love, until you have nothing left

to give except hands to carry each other
into the wild, to build again, free

-- Matthew Stalbaum, 7/15/11
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Here's my usual bitching - I'm not that happy with this one. The ending stanzas are still off to me, and though I like the idea of them, I feel like they need to be thought over more. I mostly wanted to post this one because it's the first poem I wrote in months, so it kind of speaks to me on that level - this is me finding my own steps again, recovering from graduation and saying goodbye to all my friends, feeling burnt out from reading and writing. This is my recovery poem. Maybe the last stanzas don't fit because they go somewhere else, I'm not sure yet. Thought and criticisms would be helpful to any and all who have any.