Crack(s)

Crack (S)

Down my street

My heart as well

Oh well

Its breathing room

For light

To ignite

My soul

So the other day I was walking

in the park,

through the grass,

avoiding cracks

that were blending,

moving,

wavering,

on the path

made of concrete.

Made for “cracked” people

To walk on.

The grass was different shades of green,

freshly mowed,

smelling new,

like a lakeside view after rain.

And I

Thought a thought

So cracked

It was definitely about me.

But I forget how it goes.

So,

I stayed on the grass.

Then bending down

I grasped

One

Strand

Of

Grass

Between thumb, so numb

And pointer finger old and wrinkled now.

Guess what?

The grass too was cracked!

And like me . . .

It was cracked in all the right places.