March 12, 2021
WHERE I’M WALKING
Waxed wooden floors ….
Black macadam parking lots ….
Fluffy soft – as well as hard crew cut rugs ….
Tiles …. various colors, sizes and shapes ….
Crossing the street ….
My feet know the feel of where I walk.
My feet still remember the green grass
of my favorite park – Bliss Park –
Brooklyn, N.Y. - running down the
hill in March with my kite. Then there was
the time Tom and I were on
the Fishing Jimmy trail in New Hampshire –
with its nasty black flies, slippery planks
stretched across muddy and mucky waters.
Much easier were the 9 days we
were on the Long Trail in Vermont –
with its rocks, logs, mud, easier and less trickier.
But it rained every day – like it’s supposed to
but it was a nice summer rain -
easy on my feet – soft on my face.
Black macadam parking lots ….
Fluffy soft – as well as hard crew cut rugs ….
Tiles …. various colors, sizes and shapes ….
Crossing the street ….
My feet know the feel of where I walk.
My feet still remember the green grass
of my favorite park – Bliss Park –
Brooklyn, N.Y. - running down the
hill in March with my kite. Then there was
the time Tom and I were on
the Fishing Jimmy trail in New Hampshire –
with its nasty black flies, slippery planks
stretched across muddy and mucky waters.
Much easier were the 9 days we
were on the Long Trail in Vermont –
with its rocks, logs, mud, easier and less trickier.
But it rained every day – like it’s supposed to
but it was a nice summer rain -
easy on my feet – soft on my face.
© Andy Costello, Reflections 2021
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