I do not have a bike yet.
I walk the distance between Spring Garden and Market across campus, and I have grown to look forward to its ease.
I choose to ignore the cracks in the sidewalk as they pass beneath my feet. But occasionally I cringe as my left foot steps over one.
I pass two girls from my hall as we pass over shady sidewalk and they smile at me. I like them,
but I can see they misinterpret my apprehension.
Perhaps as arrogance, perhaps as strange.
I re-situate in my oversized cardigan.
I think I see a friend from high school walking ahead of me and I am surprised by the weight of my disappointment when the stranger turns his face. You are not my friend.
You are not my guaranteed hug.
I push my slipping sunshades against my face.
I see my badly written notes on the back of my hand: 'prueba miercoles' and 'toothpaste'.
I like my handwriting and I wonder if anyone will ever get it tattooed on their wrist or forearm.
Its an unwarranted and uncomfortable thought, but it comes.
I rub my forehead and my fingers get caught in a tangle of my bangs.
How does four inches of hair tangle?
My right foot steps over a crack in the sidewalk. Thats okay.
In the cold, I will be more inclined to pursue my need for a bike.
Today, in the crisp but sunny weather of October, I will play my games with the sidewalk and waste my intelligence.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
i write my spanish homework and notes in spanish too.
i would tatoo your handwriting on me. i love your handwritting.
I also, would love to have your handwriting tatooed on my arm. AND. How is it that your walk across campus is SO interesting to me?
Agree with Emily. You make walking across campus seem so much more than that. I'd get your handwriting tattooed on my arm as long as you picked out what it said. Because I like what you say.
Post a Comment