I was rarely without your company
that summer; twenty dollars at a South Dakota
mall our ticket to explore, staining you with
oil from gas stations and stickers sinking
into your blue leather when we chased
my brother through sun-dried fields.
Within a few days, your sole-less bottoms
had molded themselves into the
curve of my seven-year-old feet.
Later you’d meet rock dust as we
ventured toward Mount Rushmore,
Crazy Horse, Devil’s Tower. You allowed my
tender feet to feel just enough curve and jut of
each stone as I pressed my weight across
the earth, enough to satisfy my childish
longing to be an Indian, roaming a version
of the country-side that I was unfamiliar with.
You narrowly missed being left behind in a
log cabin, absent-mindedly shoved beneath
wooden bunk-beds after late night walks
to the stables or just beyond the fence post.
And now, I find you stuffed in a plastic bag
in the back of my closet, my young urges
rushing back to me as I wish I had never grown up:
if only to fit my feet in you once more.
Author notes
Had to write an ode of sorts for Poetry class, and I was tired of the typical Ode to Writing. So I picked a bit of my childhood and that's that.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
i must say it is not the usual ode and for that i applaud you going out of the norm is something that many will not do so congrats for taking the chance
as for the poem itself
magnificant
it has a touching emotion to it that draws the reader in along with that it has all the structure and flow that help it along as well as the underlying message of the want to return to childhood and as i say it touches the soul
a pleasure to read indeed
-
This was great. But I gotta know what kind of shoes were there. Cuz this poem reminds me of a fav pair of converse. LOL
-
I love this look at your life through a pair of beloved shoes.
Well-done poet.
- joanne
Adding your comment:
