A speck of white clings to my shoe

A speck of white clings to my shoe,

a ghost of careless touch, clinging tight.

It hitches along the cracked sidewalk,

a small stubbornness I can’t shake.

It flaps in the wind like a lost leaf,

a piece of noise in a quiet day.

The world shrugs, unaware it follows,

a scrap of plastic unwilling to let go.

I want to brush it free, forget,

but the fragment stays—small, persistent,

a reminder of things we drop and leave,

here on the soles of ordinary walks.