Boot: Triumphant

BOOT: TRIUMPHANT


The boot will bear the weight
of many sorrows.
It is strong, it is
made for this,
this living on,
this pulling through the mud:
ox in its yoke,
kite on a string
wing in the sky

The boot knows the mud
for what it is:
something that holds one back,
something that swallows the weak.

There is always mud
on the way up the mountain.

But the boot holds me tight,
carries me like a child
toward the summit
where the view will be
breath-taking
breath-giving.


Richard Smyth

Posted over on Anabiosis Press