My Grey Friend
This walk
is my only escape.
My feet—
the concrete—
a closeness so sweet.
Soon the bell will ring,
and the ridicule will begin.
But for now—
the concrete and me,
the rhythm,
my thoughts.
A sweet escape,
wrapped up in a steady pace.
Where will I hide today,
my grey friend,
when away from your steady strength?
The library?
The canteen?
The willow tree?
Oh, pavement,
I ponder and long—
let me melt into you.
Another day
will surely break me.
But if I somehow
make it back to you
as the leaves fall in the afternoon,
it will be you and me once again—
and a steady beat
of heart and feet.
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