in frostbite country,
on burning coals,
or cutting edges,
shoeless goes better.
You can hear your feet
sigh...Freed from prison
toes play childhood games.
And soles! Aah! The soles!
In warm sand or cool
mud, finally,
your soles come alive!
Drive seashoreward
on summery days,
you will hear them,
again, again, and yet again,
“Are we there yet?”
“Are we there yet?”
Jim 12/31/10
