Along a back road
He set off from the village
when the blossoms dropped
their petal tears
and the green buds bid
to escape from the branches.
While walking along a
back road,
he was stopped
First by an old woman
who bent over a stick.
The stick gave way on the path.
The old woman fell
and struck her knee on a stone.
She said there was no need to worry anyone.
He could not pause too long
and, as she had said, there was not much he could do.
Along the back road
he continued walking
under trees now shadowing
with their leaves
and he was stopped
By a young man with hard arms
who implored and
would not let go.
This circling did not hurt
until the man dropped his embrace
and dissolved into the darkened roadside.
The journeying man
could not pause too long. There
was not much he could do
along the back road.
He continued walking.
He continued walking
and after some time
in the summer sunshine
he took off his shoes
and drank at a waterspout.
He was stopped
by a sweet-talking salesman
in a clean shirt, buttoned down
with a solution.
This opportunity would surpass the roaming.
Here, if the journeying man would
step off the back road.
He put on his shoes, washed his face
at the waterspout. He should not pause
too long. There was not much he could do
on the back road if he should keep walking.
The trees were dropping their leaves
and mushrooms clustered at their roots.
—
Given the contemporary climate of gender pronoun fluidity, it occurs to me that this may be in an antiquated voice. I had in mind those old fairy tales (such as “The Tinderbox”) and in particular those where the traveller – often a soldier or humble village man – is confronted by three companions on the trail.
For interest, you could try changing the ‘he’ for ‘she’, or your choice of gender neutral pronoun.
Beaded Quill 
