my path is a well-worn one

I like walking on it barefoot,

slowly, lovingly,

my bare feet caressing

each and every shard of glass

my path is a well-worn one

I always walk it in deep silence,

slowly, reverently,

each little footstep reluctantly

leaving life

my path is a well-worn one

I always walk it in the early morning,

half asleep, naked, 

bedroom to bathroom, I go

and hesitantly

kiss my scale

- I’m tired of walking