Boots
I have traveled miles upon these soles
Darkened leather, silcone,
Rubber, thread, tacks, insole, mid sole, my soul
Construction of a mask so that my feet
May tread the earth as I face each day
I have worn them amidst a dusty cattle shoot, where the fear I had in staring down a 600 lb steer with a tobacco stick that mightve been a sword was only out weighed by the man and father whose shout affected both steer and child in panic, welts and shanks in equal shares.
I have worn them in my jubilation of life, surrounded by family, crisp May day when the world compromised for the tied hearts, clover blooms and hollow words, shined upper and tonges.
I have worn them in the midnight hour. Where pulling on the straps so hard left tears upon our existence, so much with the words of failure haunting in my head, my heart where avenues led to the void and bottom. In desperate need to heel.
And they have worn me. Halfslip trips, backstay above the fray, dry through snow, safety in a composite toe. Farming, dancing, laughing, crying, dying, and living. I stay in my boots. But to be barefoot upon the tide…
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I really enjoyed the imagery in this poem! The opened statement at the end is a beautiful way to end this.