push down above the heel,
bundle the gathering of footsteps
pull from the toe, remove the day.
grant feet peaceful pause, likewise
naked feet are closer to the dirt,
just in case.
there are finger prints lingering on my cat.
I’ve been there and still remain.
before fancy fractal words, summer meant
fingering free the larger hill slope rocks
from their binding ochre talc nest.
new dishes. they make me wonder if they’re
getting ready for when I’m not here anymore.
I tolerate the change but not in a friendly manner.
the cat curled to sleep less than two feet from my head.
this is radical accomplishment.
secret identities. I live by tactile recognition. Ahh… I’m here.