Footwear

forest of thick waves and wrapped roots

Or so I see

forest of soft steps and moist leaves

Or so I hear

tell me where to begin and after

echo the winds and swing the shimmers

strike way beyond those green gardens

your elder shelves and youthful dust I will stride

Or so my feet can only step so far

indeed I notice an unexpected footwear wrapped along

my furthest spikes and shadows my deepest curves

Or so the depths are stratified by the unexpected warmth

so far are the chills

so far are the fears

so far do I anticipate the roars

Or what are the soft roars and screeching soprano

or what are the screeching roars and soft soprano

or so anticipate, anticipate

anticipate, no more, or

Or take off your footwear

or so I’ve heard

or so I’ve seen

Comment: Late one night, I came upon something referred to as “anticipatory anxiety”. In one way or another, it lingers quite often. Yet I enjoy the warmth, yet I don’t. It doesn’t tell me much. I don’t think it’s something that can communicate with me, don’t give it a new identity. It’s my thoughts and what else lays upon my perception.