Her Walk Poem by John W. McEwers

Her Walk



Waddling, she is.
And I want that waddle.
I want to be the uneven sidewalk beneath her undersized feet.
They are so small I can't believe she walks upright.
I'd expect
That girl
would crawl.

And I want her like warm rain
refrshing to the touch of my
unbuttoned
rain jacket.
Waddling rain,
come down.

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John W. McEwers

John W. McEwers

Nova Scotia, Halifax
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