Old friends, the
time has come for
us to part. I’ve
worn you out,
for all the times
I’ve worn you
out there working.
Toes scuffed down
to safety steel.
Paint splattered
on your desiccated
uppers. How many
laces did I break?
Soles worn through
completely like mine
from time to time
and me still standing
on my own.
We stood so much
together, dizzy heights
and mucky depths,
laces wrapped twice tight
around my ankles,
knotted with a double
bow. Adieu.
Take your rest.
You’re no good to me
anymore. But I am good
for something yet and I
will do what I must do
today.
I bought myself a brand
new pair of boots.
♠