
A Season for Feet
I have dusty memories
of summer heat, my feet
swollen and bleating.
But my winter feet
are porcelain streams
— cold and slow —
a ponderous white
in sturdy shoes.
So I wait for summer days
with elderberry clouds,
and country lanes shedding
dust on my wandering feet.
written for Misky’s Twiglet #14 “Shedding Dust”. This needs a bit of work but it’s a start…
Your comments are always welcome