MY
MOTHER’S
FEET
Withered, wearied,
Ripped and torn,
My mother’s feet
Were rough and worn.
For they had carried
Future’s weight,
Engraved by God
Her pregnant plate.
No money for
The perfect fit –
So when in pain
She’d pray and sit
Until her purpled
Blood would race
Body, soul
Varicosed in grace.
And though so wearied,
Withered, torn,
Emeralds fade…
‘Fore feet so worn.
MOTHER’S
FEET
Withered, wearied,
Ripped and torn,
My mother’s feet
Were rough and worn.
For they had carried
Future’s weight,
Engraved by God
Her pregnant plate.
No money for
The perfect fit –
So when in pain
She’d pray and sit
Until her purpled
Blood would race
Body, soul
Varicosed in grace.
And though so wearied,
Withered, torn,
Emeralds fade…
‘Fore feet so worn.
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