Our daughter has journeyed
on horseback across
the Mongolian steppes,
in red coveralls climbed high
upon natural gas pipe racks in Qatar,
ridden the bullet train to her office 
in Japan. Today I join my spouse
as we circle the half-mile
around our neighborhood
of thirty years. I haul
my usual baggage, greet
the same four cats,
wish my feet led somewhere,
my steps lighter, perhaps 
on a pilgrimage
along serpentine paths
the length of the Nile.