I have changed residences once again though the front porch I sit on remains the same. The play of the sunlight and of the maple tree leaves dapples the ground at my feet and I think of you. I am eating blueberries, one at a time, careful to not get the tiny seeds caught between my teeth, the way yesterday’s problems tend to tuck themselves between the floorboards of my living space, as if taking a nap will make them fresh for the journeys ahead; a trip to the grocery store, the gas station, to the place selling shiny electronics which eat up whole paychecks in one bite and to the shoe store. I like shoes. And, if my small pocketbook would allow me, I would wear a different pair every day And walk before you.