Hand-me-down (Poem)

Image result for old boots

I kept
your mother’s gardening boots
I hope you don’t mind

too big for you,
they fit me just fine–
I walked in your shadow
and every step felt like home

I knew they wouldn’t last
but wore them anyway

day in, day out
until the leather cracked
the soles wore thin
and rubbed blisters into my heels

I fixed the soles with superglue
hid the cracks with polish
set them by the front door

I keep thinking maybe
one day
you’ll want them back.


Share your thoughts!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s