SOLID FEET MADE FROM HOPE AND ENDURANCE

Christmas are coming, so this poem was inspired from this time of the year...


32, 8, 34

The woman passed over another one
Like she’d never really been there;
She didn’t do it in purpose
It was that her shopping bag
Hided her out of her sight

But her little girl saw her
And she would remember her
For the rest of her life,
Sitting there on a corner
With her hand blue from the cold
But too proud to leave its erected place

The woman looked her back,
The daughter not the mom,
And she wished she could
Show that kind of love to her own one day,
Hurried and anxious to get home on time
And do all the tree ornamentation
The pie and dinner cook

But she stood there
And when everything got illuminated
She walked her way;
The opposite way
From the long and short pair of tracks
Still being static pints on the ground’s white blanket;
Four, eight, twelve pints
As far as she could see

The gathered coins
Clinked liked jingle- bells
Inside her pocket
As she waved them mellowly
With her hand raking for some warmth

She looked high
But the old star was still out of sight
And then she looked low
And she wished the new mark she would shape
Would lead her a step closer to that star