..
Won’t you hopscotch walk with me? We
have a moon to catch, and she is waiting
for us to 1-2-3 our fumbled feet right up
into her gold-spilled shine. Sit here, curb
-sighed, and wander-wild. We’ll hold our
breaths and count and howl and draw
our own numbers victorious onto cobbled
streets and dance between their limbered
lines. I’ll laugh and toss a stone or two
and you (glass houses left behind)will find
me in its pebble-pondered fall. Grab a
curious star, love. This could take awhile.
..
Nov Poeming.
I love reading the title as meaning, let’ skip the feet and fly instead.
… And that line break at “curb,” as if you’re asking the curb to sit on itself and have a chat with you. 🙂
“let’s skip” … I fumbled that. 😛
Reminiscing could be a good thing if our own emotions wouldn’t stonewall us…
Love this work! Curb-sighed! Ha ha!
Sent from my iPad