Morning Walking

I pull my 

socks like mitts

Over clean rows 

of morning feet

I pull my 

socks over all that comes

The road is hard

My socks 

are soft 

I pull them tight

Up around my strength

To keep it warm and ready

For the day 

I pull my socks

And find no 

holes and 

pull them tight

I find a place to 

touch my feet

Against the ground

The floor beneath my socks

I find a place to 

stand in socks

And walk in socks

Between 

my feet and what

The day has 

warned and sneaked

I pull my socks around

My feet I find my ground

I move my feet

Catherine MacAdam

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