Made for Walking
for Sonia Farmer & for Diana Wallace

unlike old leather shoes
of which Van Gogh made a portrait

which he immortalized
painted as if it was
the owner’s face he captured

all he has in his brush hairs
this old pair of once, brand new,
leather shoes

which have gone miles
which know the ropes,
the road, the weather

the leather held up and then gave in
who wore them though
off the scene, off the stage

must be as worn as his shoes
unless he’s left them, passed away

a finger pointed to, pointed out
red, leather boots

at a poetry reading recently
invited me to put them in poetry

I looked,
dismissed them as unfit for poetry

they fit, they suit the woman in them

portion of them to turn up or turn down
about the ankles

wooly without when down
wooly within when up
about ankles in snow in New York
when away from home

what have they though to say to poetry
what has poetry, a poet
to say of what has no voice yet
no history

like a new car,
recently out of the show room
finds the road strange

shoes in a store window a week ago
on feet, on the ground

a stranger, shy yet
just stepped into this world

or calves or cubs
just born again


© Obediah Michael Smith, 2010
3:43 p.m. 05.01.10