In Fall/Fall In

The leaves blow in ripples across my feet as I stride northward, spring in my step, and I need sea legs to navigate this sea of shifting golden waves. A crunch as soles grind veins underfoot and a hop, skip and a jump, legs flailing in giddy, ungainly glee.

Every island of yellow is a place to seek a moment of sanctuary before my next step. This tiny palmate quay is mine for this moment, mine to chart and explore. I think I have plotted a course when another gust kicks the white-cold breakers up and over my sneakers, the backs are white and in sharp relief as they flip end on end.

A bus rolls past, headed for the academy, and its tyres rumble over the uneven corrugations in this poorly maintained back-street. This is my ocean, and it whispers to me.

Posted in Mwah on Saturday May 17, 2008.