Leather slices wobble, fitting carefully

Through the outline of newly aligned bricks 

Warm colors shaped in nature’s dead leaves 

Receive mightily tiny steps with sticks

Thick pelts of fur rise up and down from snow

Heightened coverage keeping one alive

Mightily cold but malleable though

A foot prints on the path, soft and benign

Light fabric, fresh from dark corners, pounce again

Racing against surfaces of pavement

Falling hard, scraping flesh, only just when

One gets up, feeling the sun’s thawed cement

Melting plastic’s small layer to the ground

“Flip flop, flip flop” echoes throughout the block

The slight inverse of shoe, unfurled, unwound

No cover, barren shine covering walks

Altering grass strands, plant leaves, sticks to sticks

Through winds of change and eroding bodies

They cycle this track, unable to stop picks

With no will or say, they keep going. Yes, please~