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My Mother's Feet

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  • My Mother's Feet

    MY
    MOTHER’S
    FEET


    Withered, wearied
    Ripped and torn
    My mother’s feet
    Were rough and worn.

    For they had carried
    Future’s weight
    Engraved by God
    Her pregnant plate.

    No money for
    The perfect fit –
    So when in pain
    She’d pray and sit

    Until her purpled
    Blood would race
    Body, soul
    Varicosed in grace

    And though so wearied
    Withered, torn
    Emeralds fade…
    ‘Fore feet so worn
    .


    Long-Skirts
    St. Louis, MO
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