Our pavements pounded, deadly treaded down;
incessant centipede of feet (those years)
breaks stones' bones, shoe slopes, heel hones and then tears
fretted fissures dreaded, grieving skin's own
...
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I enjoyed reading this. (aloud, too, of course) . Felt I was treading in well-trodden lanes of Celtic poets from ages immemorial. Actually fun making my mouth do all it had to do!