A Brief History of Feet
by Linda Fuller
egg and sperm collide
genetic code triggers
slipped out last
from the womb in April
weren’t up to Maypole dancing
that first year
kisses lavished top and bottom
tickled and toes counted
stuffed into booties
hoisted by silken chubby legs
dragged across rough nap
behind crawling knees
teetering behind crib bars
cell mates, sole mates
laced into the saddle
shoes at six
ran bare in juicy grass
ran bloody over glass
left sighs in wet sand
fossils in cement
tipped in high heels
staggering in beer and sawdust
kicking the man who won’t stop drinking
cold bottoms against another’s warmth
not enough pedicures
blood flow ceases, skin corrupts
bones gleam clean
tarsals, metatarsals, phalanges
smooth pebbles under cold fast water
Posted on 05/26/2010
Copyright © 2019 Linda Fuller
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 05/26/10 at 06:19 PM|
I love the form in this, the way it seems to be as much a part of the process the words describe as the words themselves. Well done.
|Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 05/27/10 at 12:47 AM|
really interesting perspective!
|Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 06/12/10 at 11:53 AM|
As someone who's had a life long afinity for feet, I really enjoyed this poem. Excellent job of capturing all the aspects in an emotional way that for me brought forth so many memories.
|Posted by Paul Lastovica on 06/30/10 at 08:59 PM|
the life and death of feet, volume one? love the pace of this, all the things it cause me to think back on. My feet clearly remember the feel of tree branches, as there were few moments in childhood i was not found climbing something!
|Posted by Charles E Minshall on 08/21/10 at 02:07 AM|
Yes well done Linda.....CharMin
|Posted by Paganini Jones on 09/12/11 at 03:17 AM|
What a gem to find :) I love the span of this, and that surely haiku-inspired last line
|Posted by Ken Harnisch on 09/18/11 at 03:57 AM|
A "kicking" good poem...and excellent use of form!
|Posted by Lori Blair on 10/12/11 at 12:32 AM|
Excellent..I read this thinking about my son's feet..and then it brought up so many memories of my past, my kids..and my fathers..goosebumps indeed!
|Posted by Dane Campbell on 08/06/12 at 06:01 PM|
The imagery really serves this poem well. Kudos.
|Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 03/06/16 at 04:38 PM|
Really enjoyed the flow and progression in this one - well constructed and detailed. I especially like the feel of that last line, as tho' the bones have been left out and wild, not buried away. Congrats on POTD!