Showing posts with label boots. Show all posts
Showing posts with label boots. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 7, 2025

Boot

I saw a single cowboy boot,
brown, upright on a sidewalk.
It pointed toward the painted
crosswalk it stood beside.

Had its inhabitant stepped out
of it and limped across the street
into a single-booted life?
Or had he hauled the other boot

along, walking in socks?
The tokens of absurdity,
calamity, defeat, and sadness
are strewn across all cities.

Of course they are: masses
of people, masses of things
and accidents and fractured
fates. Oh, stride on, stride on,

single-booted city cowboy.

hans ostrom 2025

Monday, April 29, 2024

Galoshes

Great word, not a great boot.
Made of rubber, with metal clips,
not cloth or leather laces.

They kept my feet
dry but not warm. In
snow, they leaked.

What a joy to get them
& wet wool socks off,
to put dry socks on

and heat my feet
near the speckled
cast iron HOME COMFORT

stove, throbbing
with oak wood warmth.
The wants of a 10-year-

old, funneled down
to the wish for warmth and
a grudge against galoshes.

hans ostrom 2024