Lines white
March across the street like the little girls in Madeline
Each as perfect as the next
Except for one
missing something greater than
a pea coat or a blank shoe.

Flash back

Pointy edged and forgotten
Chlorophyll fading
into orange with the cold
It fell, maybe days ago
And there it remains
Untouched by the wind that tugs at its stem

One day, the lines are redone.
Their cracking replaced by youth
The chlorophyll fades
into white on the upside
And next time wind comes around tickling at its stem
It leaps
Now orange
Now white

It leaves a space on the pavement
An imperfection
A dark pit that shines through the light