Sunday, June 29, 2008

Rubber Soles

When I walk
All I see are shoes
Two days of moving through town
And shoes look at me
Like dinosaur bones in the museum
Backpack stuffed and worn
Shuffling to the coffee shop
Pockets clinking with change
My jacket seams all but given up

At least summer’s coming
When evenings stay like blankets
Soft beds of grass
Beer bottles almost half-full
County fairs and sidewalk stores
Summer shoes stare at me
Sometimes pointing open toed
Tongues panting in the heat
Painted lids, pedicures
Pretty flowered sandals

At least summer’s coming.
I’ll bathe in the river
Just at sunrise
Before light makes me transparent
I’ll wash my clothes, dress the branches
And dry myself on the riverbank
Until I shrink and become vapor
Rising from the earth to fall
Slowly in a shower or with fury in a storm
Only still to be trampled by countless rubber soles.