Imagining a Roman Road

I imagine him walking briskly,
and it would be briskly, don’t
you think, along one of those
great Roman roads, those vias
they marvelled at but we would say
thank you for asphalt and concrete,
I can’t imagine driving on those
stones for long.

Despite the stones or because of
them, his feet and ankles are
covered in fine dust and an
occasional smear of mud when it
rains which isn’t often. His bag has
a few tools and a skin for water
because he’s nobody’s fool and
he know water is life.

He stops in small towns and cities,
wherever he finds a synagogue and
a few places where he doesn’t. When
he’s done speaking he looks to see who
follows after the elders stomp their feet,
always a few but he doesn’t keep count
because intensity matters more than number
and the journey less than the mission.

To see other poems submitted for One Shot Wednesday, please visit One Stop Poetry.