My father asked me to write something lighter.
I could not help but think of sunsets and rose petals,
But even petals
deserve metals for how well they wilt
Dried and crunched by my lazy step,
I wish to tread lighter,
tall grass and cat tails
the wind whistling through the cellulose of living things
And rain tapping the nature that never lived to begin with,
Smooth Jazz rocks, and fruity pebbles inanimate
The gravel wedges between the rubber crannies
on the gum bottoms of my shoes
On each stepping stone,
I wish to tread lighter
the shady side of trees,
moss only capable of growth
because of the lack of light
hiding from sunsets that melt mud,
The Slip and slide of swamps and the bites of alligator teeth.
The teeth crack under my pressure,
Dropped, then buried in the heaviness of my foot print
Barefoot, dirty and bruised,
I tread as light as I can.