These shoes, these boots
Begin now to fade from usefulness
Such prosaic things, shoes
Yet, one puns, fundamental
We have walked up Half Dome three times
And together navigated endless miles
In the hills and mountains
Of San Francisco Bay and the Sierra Nevada
And in Sweden, too
Many kilometers of hill and dale and forest,
Berg och dal och skog,
And streets and paths throughout Stockholm
Finding now these streets
Are slippery with melting snow
My feet place themselves more carefully
And I wonder why the caution
My feet and legs know
Before the inevitable truth
Now reaches my consciousness --
My boots are getting too old for this
Yes, the soles are becoming smooth
Yet still clean and firm in countenance
Like the wearer, older and still in the game
But plainly presenting this truth
So I, somewhat sadly
Now wonder how, respectfully and well
(And inexpensively)
To replace these old and worthy friends
The answer will come
In its own time
One should not rush
To replace old with new
01/07/2004
