Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

The way you walk

The child walked barefoot

No shoes.

The child rubbed grit, well borne

From the soles of her feet

From the soul

No shoes.

The child stopped to pull thorns

From the tender leathery spine

Of her feet, so neat

No shoes.

The child hesitated to walk through

The sparkling ice-sharp wastes

Of the glen, she moved on

Again and again

No shoes.

Wincing

No shoes.

Transcendent, defiant

Self-reliant…

No shoes.

◄ Snow place to cone

Iris ►

Comments

Profile image

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Fri 17th Dec 2010 13:03

This has great beauty of idea and poetic presentation. I find it very spiritual, like a parable.

Profile image

Laura Taylor

Thu 16th Dec 2010 14:08

Can almost see her...

Loved this

Profile image

Marianne Louise Daniels

Thu 16th Dec 2010 13:46

an incredible moving piece.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message