Two pairs of shoes,
Flip-flops and sneakers,
Sit in grocery bags for days.

In the morning when I go outside,
Grass glues to my feet
From dawn dew.

I ignore the grass,
And saunter to the beach,
With sand woven onto my feet.
My feet like bronzed sculptures
Is speckled with bits of grass and sand.

I flinch over pebbles
Not even my calluses soothe the pain.
My pink polish burrows in the sand
And chips.

I just sit on the pier looking out.
Brown hair blows in my face
My feet beneath me dangle high above the water
And dry in the wind
Sending tiny blades of grass like kites into the air.

One jump into the water
My feet become white accordions of skin.

Hot pavement scalds the bottom of my feet
Like tiny flames
As I make my way to the swings.

Dirty soles
Green clay from the tennis court
Throw in a blister or two
Tough skin from pedaling
Join the artwork of my feet.

At home cold water cleanses my feet
As every toe sings of summer.