Yacking and Bootblacking
24 August 2012
I've learned that without fail
Every pair of boots tells a tale.
As I sat on the shoeshine stand
My boots got polished by hand.
As the bootblack earnestly cleaned,
He talked of boot stories gleaned.
A person's boots become a part
Of their journey from the start.
My boots have gone many miles
Matching gay pride smiles.
Other boots helped the wearer bridge
Experiences on their pilgrimage.
The bootblack cared so very much
It came thru in his erotic touch.
Polish was bare-handedly applied.
Brushing was too fast to be spied.
In the end, not to be remiss,
He gave each buffed boot a kiss.
This blog is about my life as reflected in rhyming poetry, observations and occasional rants. The title is Latin for "information and errs" or loosely translated "hits and misses." Wilson Arch photo courtesy of James Muhlestein.
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