Ode to Old Shoes

the feet seek freedom
busting the broadest toe box

splaying out for balance
in an almost gape

at the gravity of it all
and the earth’s endlessness

such a repertoire
of grounds and surfaces

for the feet to savor without ingesting
to rely upon without clinging

a lesson from the dust
of the ancestors

who would’ve gone to rest
in their best shoes

the straight and narrow ones
that pinched all through church

not the ones they worked
and walked in

soft as spring rain
tough as old chewing gum

settling at the dump
into holes just their size

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