rubbing polish
into old, cracked leather --
her thumbs
are brush and cloth
and restorer
of Old Guard comfort.
Hours later
when boots
hold a dull shine
as pleasing as antique gold
she straightens,
bones popping like fireworks,
and plants a kiss:
soft lips on warm leather
for her love.
when boots
hold a dull shine
as pleasing as antique gold
she straightens,
bones popping like fireworks,
and plants a kiss:
soft lips on warm leather
for her love.
13 comments:
Sweet. A work of love indeed.
A sweet lady she was, too.
Love does make things all shiny doesn't it?
Q was shiny too!
~soft smile~ thank you, treasured memories. x
Super. Lovely boots.
I can see her!
Thank you Gail.
Lovely!
beautiful words, beautiful image, as was Q herself...
Thanks Shullie :)
I loved the poem before, but it works so well with the image. Nicely done.
Thank you!
My old boots!
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