Wexford man

For an unnamed man in Wexford Town, County Wexford, Ireland.
Shuffling steps, the Wexford man
passes each footfall as though he planned them
on paper years ago
he left home the day Cromwell laid siege
and has now returned,
groceries in hand
wondering what all the hubbub was about
arching over the walkway
like an apostrophe
left, pause, shift, lift, move
right, pause, shift, lift, move
planting his cane like a flag
concrete slabs become newly conquered countries
lost to heretics every night
needing a new conquest by sunrise
no one else to do it,
the Wexford man mumbles
stretching out crooks of fingers
for the weathered wooden cane
older than the cross
left, pause, shift, lift, move
right, pause, shift, lift, move
more steps, more decades
more of the same old pavement to reconquer
more mornings until times takes him
to the churchyard of his fathers
and other man with centuries of duties ahead
reaches for the weathered cane
left, right
left, right
onward, onward
until rapture relives the burden