Wayside Love

I have walked in small shoes for days. Back and forth. Sometimes pebbles wear down my socks. Sunny ditches free of frost border roads. I walk alongside them.

Deeper into days that roll over, brush against my blue legs, wanting to be scratched. I bend down to pick up the shiniest stones and store them in my pockets. I tuck beachy sand with broken shells around my beds.

I walk every day. To my room, to the city, to the beach. With my head in gray clouds I search for glimpses of light with shaded eyes. Seagulls watch me from white poles. They scream. Scream. Screaming to be fed by the sea gushing under bridges. I walk on bridges.

Bridges over boats. I look into eyes of stone floating on surf. Smile. Smile to the sea. Smile to me. Before we blow away. Fall into yellow ditches. Fall into wayside Love.

Finding Peace

This week I have been climbing vertical stairs to find moments of ascended peace. It has been an exceptionally sunny week.

In the wayside, a Colt’s Foot brought colors of Spring, I didn’t pick it. I left it to bloom taller. I wore bright pink lipstick to make people smile. Where are they all going in the early morning hours? I am going towards tomorrow.

Glass clear Horizon with frosty breath. Skinny winter sun. Strawberries for breakfast. Blackbirds and little tigers in the woods. Ice breaking around orange mooring poles. Was it a seal tossing white water towards the shore? Or just a sound of what’s to come.

Angels are still asleep underground. I pick feathers to paint with. Brushes are too expensive. Stroke soft hair against my bare skin. The sky opens and my feet start to warm up.

I start walking home. See you again on the sunny road.