Byroads

I took a long walk,

just me and Izzy the cat. We walked

across the country. When she got tired

I pulled her in a red wagon like

she was a princess, Princess Izzy. We started

out in winter in Maine among frost giants

and granite, kept to byroads and pathways.

Each night we made a campfire, toasted

white bread and tunafish, gazed

into the flames. A crowd of gray ghostie cats

came and sat with us, disappeared

in the morning. We walked during the day

and rested at night, travelled through the Midwest,

into the bayous and the Plains, set our toes

afire at Galveston. In New Mexico I traded our wagon

for a pink stroller and Izzy agreed

it made for a comfortable ride. I started

calling her baby Izzy till she asked

me to stop. The ghosts stayed with us

each night around the campfire

just for companionship I thought.

Izzy and I looked up at the stars and felt

good like explorers or adventurers.

Finally we arrived at the Pacific Ocean.

I was pretty footworn and Izzy was getting

anxious after many months on the road. She

leaped out of the stroller into the hot

California sun.

About Karen To and Fro

Everything you didn't want to know about me!
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