When I was a child, I walked on my toes,
as if to be taller than the world.
My parents took me to a specialist
who showed me how to step normal;
heel to toe, always heel then toe.

When I was in the band, I rolled
carefully, from heel to my toes.
Body stiff to support the melody.
Each step to the beat; smooth,
as only a solid sound would require.

When i was a Marine, I marched again.
Slamming heels into the ground
with each cadence call.  Punished
for mistakes, I stepped with others.
Always, our blows landed as one.

When I was drunk, my sister said
I stepped like a duck.  Bent knees,
leaning through my hips over flat feet.
Small steps; churning through
every upright inch I could get.

When I danced, I had to switch
back; toe to heel for the foxtrot.
Kick through the step and slow
slow.  Leading my partner in life
through the maze of turns and hold.

When time for the epic tango
the steps regressed on me.
Passion dictated by boxy frame,
high shoulders, as I looked away
from my lover along curved plane.

When I step no more, I can only hope
my footprints will be remembered.
Guided by innocence, illuminated
by hope, I stepped with a purpose
of living life; always moving forward.