Grandmother’s and Old Shoes
Against wind, rain, and soil.
Filth and stench.
Yet they still stand.
My grandmother is an old pair of shoes.
Her eye holds wonders and truths,
Of the world.
Her touch protects us,
Through the hard times we face.
Even when her mind is flaking,
She remembers the words to say.
Her sacred skin is wrinkled,
For the world had touch every cell.
Her voice still sings the same songs,
As it did when she was young.
My grandmother is an old pair of shoes,
And I love my old pair of shoes.