Stepped in it Now

It’s on my shoe
and I’ve tracked it
all through the
apartment.

I waded through it.

I mashed it.
It’s radiant.
It’s colorful.
It’s everywhere.

I need a sharp

stick to scrape
the joy from my soles.
I stepped in it deep.
It smells like electric roses.

I’m happy to see it.

I’m happy its aroma is
filling my nose.
It’s about time.

I usually just track in

dirt and misery.
But not today, today
I stepped in an ocean of joy.

Rainbow patterned puddles

finally in my path, worthy of
splashing in. I’d swim in it if
I could.

But that somehow seems like

too much. I don’t want to
overdo the joy. Just tracking
it in, through the hall, on the carpet
is more than enough for now.