poem #54

When I look at the ground in front of my feet,
I pause before reaching for the next step.
Where my brothers see a line extending from their toes,
knowing with certainty the orientation of that step,
I see a splatter,
a glob, like paint dropped from a height,
the edges fighting to decide the right direction.I place faith in my gut that I’ll meet my brothers
at our destination in the end,
as long as I accept that my path
might look a little messier, the manner of my step
a little clumsier as I slip in the paint
and skate my way across the ground.

– Leanne Rebecca 
Leanne Rebecca studied creative writing at Brandeis University and now runs the poetry blog She’s in Prison. She was the featured poet in the July 2013 issue of Pastiche Magazine and has been accepted for publication in FIVE Poetry Magazine and The Vehicle
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