My cowboy boots lean wearily,
dusty, scuffed and worn.
On many trips, line dance skips,
my feet they did adorn.
I always feel so sturdy,
well connected to the ground.
In boots, I stride across this world,
with a firm, no nonsense sound.
When they've walked the final mile,
at last, time to retire,
I prop them up, one last time
and set my boots on fire.
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| Writing Prompt |
Write a POEM in any style and to any length with the theme of FOOTWEAR.
Will you write about tennis shoes? hiking boots? stiletto heels? slippers?
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Author Notes
Thanks to Bruceiorio for the artwork. I do burn my boots, don't know why.
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