I stepped upon
The completely unabused, unmolested
Patch of ground.
The crystalline snow absorbed my shoes,
Contrasting:
Black against white. Hot and cold.
Life against anything but.
And I realized in that
Instant,
I was the first to step there upon.
Ever perhaps.
And what a feeling is that?
In such a place where wear
So easily can be noticed,
There was none where I stood.
No sign of anything, nor anyone, but
Me. The me.
And in that same notion,
The innocence and naivety of all
I once thought,
The selfishness and self-supremacy,
Came to the forefront of my mind.
Of course someone had stepped here before.
Though, how could my thinkings be not justified?
At the time,
Not a car was on the street.
Not a soul was around, except for a few of us.
Here,
My shoe in the snow was an inexplicable symbol
Of humanity’s downturns and side-turns,
Mis-turns and mind-burns.
Of course someone had stepped there before.
But what a feeling it was at the time.
