• Vol. 05
  • Chapter 07
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Old feet
have ugly displaced bones
that force shoes awry
a legacy of past stilettos
or misfit army boots
with cracked skin
and brittle yellow nails
which old hands cannot cut.

Yet those same feet
hold the ghosts of tender bones
and sweet smelling soft skin
that nestled in a mother’s hand
and which she printed for posterity
on a treasured plate.