Ojay/olcay

The earth I tread with fetish feet
Is cold and moist post-summer rain,
My cotton dress dances with the wind
And sways its hem revealing bare knees.
I run across the earth without a map;
I beckon the gusts to take me away
My hair pulled north/south/east and west.


From behind a shapeless cloud
The sun appears sheepishly/delayed.

I�m still running across the earth:
My feet bleeding from sharp stones.
I cannot feel to stop and heal.
I�m going somewhere-to the point-
To the edge.