I throw confetti
against the wall
to see what sticks
Watch the colored scraps
fall and float
scatter
at my feet
as I fight foot traffic
On my hands and knees
I pick
at each precise piece
to make my pile
I feel small
there on the floor
even as I marvel
at each color
each shape
as they turn
into jagged tears
And I try
to get a grip
I wonder how many pieces
are lost
in the grooves of shoes
that speedily pass me by
Carefully,
I pocket the pieces I can
and look around
for a place
with a little better traction
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