vendredi 17 août 2012

shoe repair

Photo: "Mission shoes" by David

i'm taking my shoes to the shoe repair
there are not any extras, it's my only pair
on the tip of each toe is a very large hole
perhaps they will have to replace the sole
so worn with a lifetime of walking about
god knows that i cannot forage without
through the forest floor or the grimy street
all of which is hard on the feet

this singular pair of shoes i love
that i've worn for years, that fit like a glove
i pray that the shoe doctor knows his trade
and will fix up the holes in the sole i've made

for these shoes are priceless, they're good as gold
one day i may bronze them when i grow old
set them on a mantle and remember the days
when glory was a walk in the sunlit haze
or i climbed a mountain and felt the nip
of a glacial wind on my burdened hip
yet inside i soared like a bird of prey

i remember the ecstacy to this day
that pair of shoes that held the ground
now needing the sole doctor i've found
at the shoe repair shop in the center of town
where i bring my pair and set them down
on the counter top where the doctor stands
and examines the work and notes the demands
then assures me the shoes can be repaired

and i feel that my very life has been spared
for i love those shoes, they are part of me

they're the wings on my feet that set me free
he appears sympathetic, he's seen this before
as i take the ticket and walk to the door
in my naked feet, every shard to feel
in his hands my shoes with holes to heal


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