A mother’s feet are sweaty and well worn,
Bone white, pink tipped like Roman lances,
Brick walls and hopscotch patterns drawn
With chalk on the sun baked pavement—
Shadows at play, two days in the sun,
Mary Quite Contrary rhyming with her long feet,
Skin and bones like a ship’s sail in the wind
She is my lover with all hands on deck—
Pirates come on board and she jumps ship,
Diving into the lake of fire,
I saw her leap that day and was sorry,
Until she began to swim, a mermaid—
Beneath the green and blue coastal waters,
I turned golden, startled by her grace,
She must have been a dancer too, this mother of feet,
So like her mother in years hence—
When the sun will revolve around her
In my dreams as if she were a queen,
Yes, I agree with the decree, all mothers
Should be eaten as food for the soul—
A mother’s feet shall be released like the feathers
Of a rare, exotic bird, see her fly and swim and crawl,
Like a mythical plumed serpent, she repeats her mother’s
Fate, falling in love with the bonny eyed sailor—
That rescued her from the shifting sea,
Bringing her to shore to rest her head on his shoulders,
Her shark-like feet what he desires from then until now,
A mother’s feet are sweaty and worn—
Bone white, pink tips like Roman lances,
Brick walls with hopscotch patterns drawn
Johnny Noir
<3
