We were writing odes in class the other day. This is one I wrote while the kids were writing theirs.
Our odes were silly. And over the top.
Just the way we like them. #WriteBesideThem
Ode to my Old Work Boots
I honor you, boots,
you sturdy guardians
of my tender feet,
your ancient leather scarred
and torn by brambles,
by tree branches.
Rocks, sharp as
eagle’s talons
are no match for
your steely strength.
You are a tank in battle,
my toes are the soldiers inside.
When you were new
my feet bunched inside you
like briny olives in a jar,
like puppies, crated all day,
burst out, ready to romp!
Your unyielding walls
raised blisters on my heels.
Now, your age has
relaxed your tawny hide.
You are soft as
a dog’s ears, as a
grandmother’s blanket.
You are my solace, my shelter
from the storms that rage,
a safe harbor for my feet.
— Steve Peterson