‘No foot, no horse’ they say,
yet as I study my naked soles
I read my own well worn story.
Bared they do not lie but flinch
when pressed into the sharp edges
of life’s gravel strewn path.
Bared they marvel at the feel of silk
soft grass when walking in the sweet
comfort lawns of friendship.
Bared they wander on tiptoe
washed by many a dew teared morn.
Bared they have wrinkled
in the oceans of heartfelt romances.
Bared they persevered sand-cracked
and rubbed raw traversing
the seeming deserts of dismay.
Buried they spent countless days
confined within leather booted
working hours pounding ground
to pay for and enable this existence.
Bereft of these you will surely know me
when I kick off these heels of stance
running in barefoot abandon
to greet you with arms open wide.
(Abi’s Poem) *in more ways than one