Three Steps
I almost trod on it
but then my shoe kinda flinched,
one leg hovered in the air
not wanting to feel or hear that sound.
There’s a large dead cricket
belly-up
three steps down on the stoop.
Yellow-green exoskeleton still vibrant
spidery legs stiff and splayed
in the morning sun.
I know body cavities crunch when turning to dust
I have seen the dead still dying away.
I have seen their exhumed bodies.
I’m not stepping on my truth today.
One fine day all our flesh will be healed;
spiritually formed, vibrant,
fully returned to the many colors of love.
Three steps down from the highest stoop
something real good will be true,
for us I reckon.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2022
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