On The Write Path

from 'Saga of the Sock'

Saga of the Sock

         Along the Askerselva

I ran away from grey skies and the grey person who owned me once; sought color among the scents of dandelions, mustards and glossy buttercups in bloom. I set my sights high. I wanted to climb oaks and maples, nestle in arms of a mother elm. But without a leg to hoist me up... I fell. Exhausted I lie here now. Do not mourn me as you pass. I am surrounded by angelwings of mapleseeds, caressed by souls of shoes.

© Kåre Enga [Oslo, 23.mai.2015.]

Notes:

1. 'wings of green mapleseeds' changed to 'angelwings of mapleseeds'. Better image and rhythm. First posted, with photo that inspired it, on facebook.
2. 'souls' is intended.