I walk though the green ambiance soft under foot.
Patches of dirt where grass hasn't yet took,
varieties of shade leach blade never the same.

Under my feet the sound of rustling as my being
here is remembered as each footstep leaves.
wet dew is sewn on to the tips lingering like diamonds.

As I look back and see my traversing from there to
here, I see my footsteps like fingerprints showing
evidence of my transgressions through morning grass.

My walk nearing its inevitable end, I breath in the
freshness that sinks into my lungs. invigorated by
the surroundings I walk home across the carpet of green.