May 14, 2013

April 19, 2013


We walk above Japantown, the pedestrian bridge and Poppy is scared, but just a little. The traffic stops beneath us and she watches. We meet a girl, a young black girl who likes Poppy and asks her name while she pets her. I tell her, "Poppy" and she thinks for a moment.
"I had a friend named Poppy!"
"That's an unusual name!"
"Yeah, she was the only person I've ever known to have that name."
I like to notice lines and shapes while I walk, while I concentrate on my feet, my arches, my gait. I tell myself to land mid-foot, not with a heel strike. So I find myself staring at the ground while I concentrate and I like to see the shapes that nature fits into man-made containers.

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