Things go different ways.  

Birds leap from treetop to bush to sky, little hearts beating fast and wide.
Machines, screaming with steel, go straight, with small curves, keeping their balance and sound--solid.
Foxes tiptoe from clearing to bramble, feigning fearlessness but dashing away, tails streaming.
Frogs wallow in puddles, and never go very far.
Fleas, nobody likes, attaching themselves to the most honest warm ankles.

I go all ways at once--leaping, screaming, a proud tiptoe, wallowing, needling, and my shoes seep with all of their steps.

photo by Missy Prince.

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