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Touch Your Toes

December 20

 

 

 

 

 

Touch Your Toes

 

 

Funny how we deal with feet.  I have seen a woman cradle hers and treat it like the dearest babe. I know some folks who shun their feet; can barely stand to think of them, let alone to touch them.  There are the Mani-Pedi people who leave it in the hands of others.  I met a guy who soaks them soft and tucks little bits of cotton under the corners of his nails.  I know too, the woman with the snarling crusty dogs that serve to others as a warning.  My grandma warns me not complain about my shoes lest I meet the man who has no feet, but I doubt I would fit in his.

 

 

 

 

Borrow brilliance

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MUD PIES
 
Mud pies and retro-childhood
Are for the hurt ones, small and angry inside me.
They require care and special attention
But I can’t stop with them.
 
Saving children to starve the adolescents is a sad fate
Or abandoning adults after bringing them all this way
Is indescribably cruel.
 
I cannot work on healing
All the while waiting for some ice flow
To shove myself off on.
 
There is never a time I am not the responsible party
For the people who inhabit my interior life
I live their reflections everyday.
 
There is no one-way mirror
With which to hide unresolved issues
No rug to sweep them under
They flow through me like a river
 
I must return them to breed new health
As a salmon swims back to the waters
Of its birth to bring new life.
 
I must brave the complexities of maturity
I cannot just sit in the mud

 

 

 

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