as phoebe is to walking, i am to writing . . .
sometimes she skips
sometimes she gallops
sometimes she ambles.
sometimes she sticks to the prescribed path
sometimes
she veers to the right
or to the left
chasing something
that captures her attention or imagination.
sometimes
she is so totally captivated
that she just stops
and sits for a spell
to reflect and
take it all in.
sometimes
she ventures so far out into
the ten acre wood
to investigate
that she’s a mere
butterscotch dot.
sometimes it’s good enough
to celebrate;
other times, it’s best
to nap and dream of a better tomorrow.
but always, always, always
it’s better
with somebody riding shotgun.
here ‘n there