Tickling toes-
there was something about
that barefooted madness
something about that wistful
waist-high wishing and wooshing
in the woods,
Running to the water,
Running from the sand.
One always dreams of brighter skies
when toes are tickled-
but when hitting the water-
one always feels they
are just a blade of grass.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
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Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
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RICK: Hey Rick? DICK: Yea, Dick? RICK: See that sky roll on by? (points) DICK: ...Oh, my... RICK: Don't i-t'almost makes yer wanner....
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there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
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hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
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Another Indian woman living on our block has hair swept back and braided has jeweled toes, is in all yellow traditional regalia, and walks w...
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In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
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like me- it serves as a question as well as an appropriately foolish letter in bad company it only teams up with words like yodel, ...
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driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu...
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Out the window, I thought I saw Emily pale, gawking. a green T-shirt. bouncing firey springs on her head.
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nipped at the ankles which is how I wander through life sometimes I must be pushed through a door finally opened after years of knock...
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Tickling toes- there was something about that barefooted madness something about that wistful waist-high wishing and wooshing in the woods, ...
Even i like my toes being tickled by grass. It's a pleasurable sensation. Well written.
ReplyDeleteAlways pleased to read your work, always much more than "just" a blade of grass. Nicely written indeed.
ReplyDeleteWhen you truly do feel nature, you realise just what a marvel it all really is.
ReplyDeleteLovely!
The feel of the grass on bare feet seemingly ticklish tells me of the reality of life. It touches on and signals 'feel' directly to the person. Great!
ReplyDeleteWouldn't the world be wonderful if we could go about barefoot everywhere within it? Nice one!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful metaphor!
ReplyDeletePerfect tone...fun, and sweet.
ReplyDeleteNicely done, I love the 'barefooted madness'. :-)
ReplyDeleteAmy, loved your barefooted feel of the entire poem, the abandon with which you wrote. Sand, grass, ground... hell, even gravel I do barefoot! But nature is the best place to hang one's tootsies. Here is my Grass poem:
ReplyDeletehttp://sharplittlepencil.wordpress.com/2011/07/28/grass/
Peace and a run through the blades, Amy
aw crap - that means i left my comment on the wrong entry before! anyway, this is a very relaxing piece, neatly put together as always.
ReplyDeletenow, where was i - oh yeah, cards? cluedo? coffee?
*hands them around and glances over at the distant gates of lj*
looks like rain i see...
This is quite lovely - with a feeling wistful joy...bkm
ReplyDeletewow, thanks to all my friends who posted!! you are all lovely people.
ReplyDeleteI kind of went that carefree way! I loved you added the tall grass and grit!
ReplyDeleteWritten with a light and airy grace worthy of a subject dependant on light and air.
ReplyDeletealliteration!! :) x
ReplyDeleteyay! lol
ReplyDelete