“The whole world is our playground.”
The destination of a step starts with a motion.
As the cuff of my pant leg
Elevates higher than the border of my sock,
Cold grips at my ankle.
This feeling like I stepped through ice
Into a shallow puddle raises leg hairs.
Contrasts with quiet laughter,
From a woman framed by frost designs
Etched across her kitchen window.
And this strange idea
Of a world around me
Causes my spine to tense.
Steps conspire a destiny.
I hear midnight birds sing to the stars.
I capture their notes,
Hold them in my throat.
Watch the notes dance
As I emit a fog of breath
That escapes my lungs
And sings with them!
I’ll trade wax for glass
Rinse my skin in a simple light.
I’ll tell this quiet street
About a perfect design for noise.
Scream into the alleyways
Waiting for an echo.
I am nothing.
I am everything.