Rejuvenation

by Kara Hutchison

Today I am an adult.

I walk on the pavement

with my shoes on

of course.

But green, growing grass

in the breeze

leans and beckons

and the child in me sees, bends

to pull off shoes and socks

and steps into this sea,

a slow-flowing stream of bowing

green.

Toes breathe, drink in,

shiver with joy

in cool, deep softness and I think:

If I had my life to walk again

I would walk it all, barefoot,

in grass.