Shoes
How many styles of shoes,
Can one wear in a day.
I guess it depends,
On how crazy the day.
Barefoot this morning,
On a cold Venetian tile floor
My cats stole my slippers;
Which they seem to adore.
Sweats & loafer, I now
adorn
Across the street I slide,
For the “old newspaper;
On frigid winter morn.
Stilettos now, I wish,
As I talk with a friend
About a poem for her
That flowed from my pen
Sneakers cover my toes
As I capture my young cat
Just like the four others
It’s time for a spay.
Then old work booths slide on
As I head for my shop,
I need to finish restoring
A 19th century
accounts desk.
The accounts desk is done,
My feet are now bare,
As I curl up to write;
In my old leather chair.
Though not really bare, as I sit
there
For my big orange tom cat
Is draped across my feet
Keeping them warm and happy
feet
No date tonight, so my feet get
a rest
But I’d rather they be in
heels,
Below a slinky dress, sliding across
the floor;
In the arms of a girl, in
similar dress.
© February 20, 2014
D. D.
