Box it up and mail me out with the soul in the soles that stayed afloat
at least they are guaranteed for life,not the sand or dirt from the streets
not the beauty of the people they have met along the way
conversation or story
I bring the mutual aid boy scout badges home to the auld man from the people I meet and he puts them on his walker
those we keep and box up next to the medallions of my grandfather and uncles who built the bridges and tunnels of this city
the belief in the bigger picture was always the lesson,horrible situations handled with grace and style
work tied with the heart and laces of the ground covered
is this an ode to my boots and this city?
a song to the people who have toiled in the same way?
I sing my boots eclectic and Whitman can buy us a drink
They will be replaced along with the spirits of new days to come
Except I will have two pairs