Walk - Object writing
by Sam
walk- object writing - cold morning chattering air closing on my ears and neck, cool distant stars climbing behind the clouds and peaking out from behind a shadowing moon. white tufts of frost on hanging red sheets along windrows of hedges with cats peaking out from yellow and purring eyes glued to the swish of my born leather shoes. Cars rushing on their way to mundane jobs and pieces of old flyers hanging on winter tires. Melting thoughts to the rhythm of my steps that pound with my heart along untraveled roads and velvet underground groundhog tunnels. long blue bands of tomorrow clinging to the horizon while yellow fires burn at their feet. Sweet fir trees leaning over the road and touching the lawns to see if the grass is alive and creeping. Red mud growing in the ditches from water walking down each morning from the car wash and stringy limbs of people following their eyes down the street. blue flashing lights and red drivers at the intersection waiting for permission to cross the street like children in school yards and sour bus drivers counting change clicking down their meters. Cool breezes kissing my exposed elbows and stretching the hair on my arm into carpets of Einstein hair.
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