NB work in progress
Atom by atom
(Only, millions at a time)
These shoes have shucked
Their baby grains of gum
Along the paths
We daily drove together.
They’re not exactly trainers
(Though starting to smell like it!)
Or runners, or gym, or tennis shoes,
Though you might fake a game or two.
Soft suede, beige, stitched with panels
And logostyles, with long white laces
You have to double-knot, or trip.
I guess you’d call them kindly, a sport shoe,
Which at my time of life
Is a bit, whatever the word is.
Comfy? Wearable will suffice.
As the rubber
Like the shadows
On Court Number One.
I’ve been worried lately
Feeling the ground, the grit
Pressing rough against my feet.
So today it came as no surprise
When, for the first time,
I feel my finger go right through
The sole, worn thin as rain
And think, that’s it then.
Game over for these shoes. Again.
We wear away,
Along the line of life.
Cell by indivisible cell,
Millions at a time.
And as we wear away, the world wears too
And trails its mark upon us, its faint sheen.
But the world’s wearing will not fix my shoes,
Nor in a million years will my shoes repair the world.
Gradually, or speedily these shoes, the world
The whole shebang, shucks off its rot,
Exhausted energy painting slugtrails you can find
On cycle paths through Time, the Universe,
This disintegrating Mind.