Friday, July 15, 2011

Barefoot in Wet Grass


Barefoot in wet grass
The cool trimmings of
Yesterday’s lawn
Cling to my feet
Like shoes of an
Organic sort, the shoes
Of a childhood spent

Barefoot in wet grass
Bonding with the ground
Grounded to a place tread on   
Many times before by many more
Than just me, just me and
My bare feet, dirty and rough
From many days passed

Barefoot in wet grass
And yet not, freedom wanes
A sensible pair of black flats
Take me through a work day
Blisters and bandages cover
Those beautiful bare feet
While I dream of standing

Barefoot in wet grass.

My poetically prose-y response to this week's Red Writing Hood prompt: shoes. I have a love/hate relationship with shoes. I prefer going barefoot.

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