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.
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.