and with a sharp
stick i scrape
off the day
now over
from the bottom of my shoes.
the evidence of
where i've been,
what trails i've taken,
and who i've
been with,
are apparent.
i see the weather, the terrain,
the relationships,
words said,
everything i've
stepped into.
so much evidence
stuck in
the treads.
new shoes are on
the horizon, again.
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