On my own two feet my presence is always present.
The sidewalk, pavement, tiles, grates, wooden floors and cobble stones are rich with stories. When I found my self idle, I look down and ask them about how things are.
Furry wall of bowery.
Face in the sidewalk.
Fiery headache, you wont believe how strange it looks.
Diamond and clover.
Getting out Camper with no camping.
On the yellow, half a smile.
JR in the times square.
Thirty four triangle.
A wink, a teardrop, a kick in the face.
Between a narroe wooden plank and rocky beach.