Pebbles And Puffs Poem by Mari Martin

I used to walk hurridly upon pebbles.
My shoes, with tattered soles,
balanced against sharp edges,
carried my weight precariously.
I was anxious to reach the soft dirt
that puffed small clouds about my ankles,
a respite for my sensitive feet.

One day, while taking a strole
on a relaxing afternoon,
along a road of pleasing ankle puffs,
some over loaded wagon had spilled the path
with finger like waves of pebbles.
I studied my recourse to such carelessness,
having snatched my relaxing walk.

I concluded,
the tattered soles had fared well to date.
I had enjoyed, so far, my relaxing strole
with the puffs of comfort.
So, with a continued smile
I embarked upon the spilled pebbles
with moderate interruption
to an otherwise enlightened walk
along the river's edge.