Dirty Boots

They always stood in the corner
warmed by the wood stove
given away by pools
of dust.

The leather’s peeling,
cracked at the toes and ankles
the heels now nearly scraped
from all the work

You’ve told me
“I’ve had these boots
for 15 years, they’re apart of me;
I couldn’t throw them away.”

But they sit in the corner
warmed by the stove


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3 Responses to “Dirty Boots”

  1. abaldys Says:

    Just fyi the poem has to be about someone else. I do know how you feel though.

  2. Allie Cline Says:

    I like this poem. I can visualize the boots, and I feel like the sort of connection the person (“you” in the poem) has to the boots is something we’ve all felt or seen ourselves.

    The boots are pretty well illustrated, cracked and scraped flat, and I think, if you wanted to make this poem longer, you could apply those descriptive powers to other aspects of the poem. The man (I’m assuming the boots belong to a man) has to wear other shoes- what are those like? Does he have any strong connection to them? What sort of work did he do with those boots for 15 years? Does the narrator know? Has she even seen him wear them?

    In all, I like this poem. I can see the setting and the boots, and I would love to know more.

  3. Rebecca Turner Says:

    It’s not about me, I haven’t been married for 15 years