clipping a trail
through the un-mown grasses of prehistory
i am reduced and nuded
by the buoyant vat of sky baby blue
the grasses seed the heels of my work clogs
spiking sensory jabs through my socks
a shy petting of pain
with the prow of my stride
tiny residents vault scut and flutter
neatly evading un panicked
radiating wet heat raises to my waist
i stop my destructive wading
i am slit, vulnerable and fed
i am primitive and free
i have membership
my uniform banished
i take in a humid breath
about face
and the illusions are switched
the buildings icon dominates
and draws my responsibility
i can smile at the wash of life
and reinstate myself in paid labour