Pilgrim’s Poem 3

Fell a little behind there for a second! Moving to a new city (or should I say village?) in a new state, and internet access was scarce there for a second. How strange to realize just how dependent one is on the internet…

Anyhoo, now that I’m back, enjoy another Pilgrim’s Poem!

They begin: an awareness of discomfort.
Your small toe mashed up within your shoe
Which you haven’t had the chance to peel off
In, perhaps, some thirty-six hours;
A rough rub like scales ‘round your heel;
The sensation of bruising on the pads of your feet,
And padding on still.
They creep in slowly
So you don’t even notice they’re there
Quiet and slippery
Until they’ve done it—your boney toes are as swollen as balloons.
The skin is white and distended and watery.
They push out even at the callus on the sole of your foot
With grubby little hands like teeth and claws
So you walk as though with clubbed feet:
Limping, for it might as well be
So swollen and wretched
With all those creeping, sneaking blisters.

.

An unraveling of laces
A sigh of relief
Of freeing toes when shoes are cast aside
Pinch the swollen bruises no longer
And to whip the socks off with a flourish—
Whapa!
No more may that rotten-foot stinking thread cling upon your skin.
And oh—how sweet such air upon the flesh feels
Like a soothing bath—like chocolate fondue—
Like silken sheets and sugar kisses.
To wash those feet gently, to bandage those blisters
And put your feet up against the wall—
Let the bruised blue blood rush finally out—
Fresh red blood flow freely in
And ahhhh…
To stretch out those legs
And wiggle free toes—
No brighter a smile could bring.

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2 thoughts on “Pilgrim’s Poem 3

    1. Thank you! ^.^ There’s one more part for sure, and then a few others I apparently haven’t written yet. I’m going to try to get on that soon, though the experiences are less fresh in my memory so I don’t know exactly how well they’ll pan out.

      Liked by 1 person

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