My March

My eagerness to be outside wrapped me up while I finished another session of listening to recordings. I kept referring to the only window that my back was lucky enough to admire while my eyes glaze over at the computer screen or my pencil drawing. I reached my numbers for the day and hoped for a walk back to my car full of kisses from the sky. As reliable as can be, it was sprinkling when I entered the outside world. My legs were walking utterly content, but my ears felt an eery quietness. The clouds grayed out the scenery and I couldn't resist but to pick another youthful flower from the campus. It spins among my fingers as I gaze lovingly at its being and I place it behind my ear. I smile as I can feel every drop attach to me like a magnet, supplying my soul with twirls. I give the sky a look as it was looking down at me, and swung my water bottle as if it were a hand I was joyously holding. My feet balanced on cement curbs and hopped when I transitioned from the street to the sidewalk. I found the perfect stick to act as a staff as I conduct my march. A melody developed as it was hummed and an imaginary crowd of followers weren't far behind. My track stops again when a branch of interesting pods lay beside where my steps were, so picked them up I did. Then my sight goes straight ahead where a driver is sitting. I stall a second to wait for him to carry on with what direction he decides to go but he stays idle. I proceed for I have to cross his street which is perpendicular to mine. He opens his door almost insecurely asking if I need a ride and the only way my mind could think of responding was to blatantly say shortly..'No.' For a walk in a light rain is the idealized journey for me. And for this here stranger I do not know and sadly cannot trust within him to be a kind citizen. I just endured an entire semester's worth of firmly declining such approaches and making it my duty to walk with such purpose. For you kind citizen, I stopped in my path trying to cross the street before I could reach you but trees blocked my view to the left and a pile of monstrous ants to my mid-left. So I carry on in your direction quickly and make sure you are on your way once our air is filtered through each others, for I must continue this march that has become of my worth. I have my humdrum melody, my stick to conduct, my branch for enthusiasm, and my water bottle as a warm hand of encouragement. The only thing missing was my initiating flower who listened closely by my ear, but I suspect it had better obligations to fulfill. Now I continue to my dependable friend as more of my upper body flails left and right to my humdrum. I am king.