Today I realized I was too familiar
with humdrum mediocrity in the air
Stacked Special K, Trix, Cinnamon Toast Crunch
Vacant eyes scanning for Penne or Linguini
Surprised, each time, by the seductive
smell of the Coffee aisle
Eyes away from other eyes, pushing metal
I count my steps each night when I walk
around the block. I listen for the slap
of each footstep on the pavement and
wonder what it will be like when I no
longer lift my feet up and down
My neighbors all keep their blinds closed
And then last night, I walked through my door
and Ed, my dog, greeted me, a question
hanging from his wagging tail, his
eyes, looking into mine with a dare
I had to reach down, to touch him
Pure intention with skin
See more progress on: write a (sloppy, half-formed if need be) poem every day (or so) during October 2010
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