The Art of Walking Backwards

It seems that I have mastered
The art of walking backwards
I crane my neck with great precision
Sidestep every near collision

It’s not as hard as it may seem
Like fingertips on a fading dream
A misty memory from when you were young
A word whispering at the tip of your tongue

You learn to trust the periphery
The faith in what you cannot see
To appreciate the unveiled view
The silent stories surrounding you

I promise you it’s worth a shot
As you stumble along this spinning dot
Reverse your way through space and time
And tell me what it is you find