• Lorraine Johnson

[113] As I Walk

I walk the same land

with wind in my face

and wind at my back

—the rhythm the same, or not

the rocks line the scape

the waves crash the shore

sand seeps into the cracks

of my toes

and tiny winged footprints

scurry along

—clouds grace the sky, or not

the sun shines into my eyes,

and I lower the brim

or gaze towards its pull

passersby appear, seen and unseen

my feet pass over and over

through the swings of hot and cold

I think I see and recognize all.

Then in an instance,

the universe appears

with all its gentle might

—revealing a cast of new colors,

opening slumber with fireflies,

removing sleep from my eyes

—as I walk the same land.