Dead Men’s Boots

tough as old leather
their souls worn down
eyes vacant of lace
collected by the door
the day they swapped
their pit-boots
for the Kings shilling
and donned their shiny
new military issue

there they stayed
gathering dust
and old potatoes
in their safe grasp
neatly lined
waiting for the return
of father and two sons
to the safety
of their hearth

day after day after day
sometimes kicked askew
but always realigned
like a row
of invisible soldiers
standing to attention
silent and obedient
unquestioning
and stoic

until the morning
that a knock came
to the peeling door
and a telegram
fluttered from the fingers
of wife and mother
coming to rest
across these
dead men’s boots

Inspired By: photograph by Richard Nixon (c) Rich Pictures

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