Anyone want to read a poem about feet and their daily thoughts?
About their life and musings?
Do we not mention the miles they have to walk?
But do they also keep me moving, upright and feeling alive?
Could it be they are the very start of us or are they the end?
My feet they like to talk together,
They like to walk and stalk together,
They will pace in any weather,
They will stand as one forever.
In and amongst the heather,
Treading water and its brand,
Walk-in sailing the land,
And crushing the gravel and sand.
When one gets ill the other one sighs,
And tries to help to take the weight,
Of the master they are serving way on top,
Or any type of freight they stop.
My feet they like to march together,
They like to stride together,
They try to dance together,
They want to brand together.
At any time of their life,
They can wake up and see each other,
Perhaps one is sleeping,
Perhaps one is twitching.
After hours of standing,
Maybe to attention or still,
Or other ways of landing their fill,
Or stretching after waiting will.
My feet they love to be together,
They like to smile together,
And be a while together,
Ignoring stones or other things.
And keeping their distance by day,
Until nightfall when they play,
When they cling together,
And swing apart under the covers.
They are ready for the next day's standing,
Or walking or running or landing,
They are rested and well-prepared,
To carry the might of those upstairs.
My feet today and the future,
Who know better than me than I ought to,
Who keep my footsteps in the scenes,
Where they have been in day and dreams.
4th November 2022