The fall of tennis shoes,

treads laid down

soft on me

remain markedly

outlined.


My first one

wore tennis shoes,

always liked the denim too.

Skin so deep,

bronzed her beauty inside.

Eyes that flashed

and left me young.


The later one,

she liked heels

you see.

Wiggle, squiggle, still.

Man, she was for me.


Found heels

can leave a little...

deeper scratch.

But one does heal,

a tad wiser mark.


Hey,

there goes my third.

I think she's wearin' flats.

Sweet woman,

just concerned for me.