POEM: Hesitation

I am a ghost.

On translucent soles
I navigate
the slick city streets,
Afraid of falling.
The mist
Creeps in from Ran’s wide road,
Muffling sounds of
mid-week hustle.
I grind my feet
Against the asphalt,
Finding purchase,
Mincing steps for fear that
in my heedlessness
I’ll slip,
And for a moment, suspended,
contemplate the abyss.

I step
carefully around the leaves
That from some distant tree
have found their way downtown,
to lie in wait of some
Poor reckless soul,
Who might rest their weight
a moment
on such fickle footing.

The fog
Provokes no quiet wonder
In the shoppers or the corporate crowds
All headed somewhere dry
With colours false and vibrant
Each voice too loud,
As the hush rolls in.
Their steps are heavy; solid
and unflinching
on wet concrete.

I am a ghost,
Picked out in black and white.
Through shrouded streets I walk,
My footfalls light
I tumble through the world.

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