The other day  my eyes strayed

On an old pair of walking shoes

They were dusty and crusty

Well worn , well travelled , musty

This was the pair which had felt

The crunch of pebbles and pain

Of traversing uneven terrain

This was the pair which winced

On red hot asphalts of summer

And felt the punch of icy cold

In the bitter, biting winter

This was the pair which had

Suffered rain’s heavy splashes

The boisterous wind’s  lashes

This was the pair which downed

In puddle and was muddled by

More fashionable ones strutting

Side by side choosing to ignore

Its muddy visage and heels sore

A cut here, a scratch there, a hole

Everything that made it whole

Was this right time to discard  ?

My heart rebelled at the thought

As it came to mind how it fought

The vagaries of life with grace

I gently let it be placed to rest

In the cupboard large amongst

The neat n’ shiny n’ freshly bought

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About gc1963

A working woman with interests in reading, writing, music, poetry and fine arts.

10 responses »

  1. Sadje's avatar Sadje says:

    A lovely tribute to your trusty old shoes

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Truly a profound poem! I too feel that our belongings and personal items become an extension of our self over time. They are not simply objects to be discarded.

    Liked by 1 person

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