I hear its tiny voices
climbing the hill to meet me
excited
curious
happy
i call out to it
good morning!
and its voices reply
good morning
hello
happy Friday
I step aside
and small legs and arms and bodies roped together pass by
a kiddie centipede
and a question
why does he have that white stick
and the silent reply
Because I’m not roped to anything
tio stib
The white stick of a climbing centipede (with all its multiple parts working in unison) draws this reader’s attention to a Friday morning wonderland, indeed. Delightful!
Glad to hear the poem sparked something wild. thanks for stopping by.
This creates a surreal image in my mind.
I often pass the local daycare kids, all tied together for safety, out for a walk with their more adult handlers. We always have interesting conversations.