This is going up a bit late, argh! I’m not handicapped/differently abled/whatever term you prefer, but with the Big Tent prompt about feet, I thought I might try to project a bit. And with snow falling all around, I thought about how everyone becomes kind of ungainly when walking through a deep fall; does that make it seem like a bit of poetic justice? It’s a secret sonnet as well, with one little stagger put in there on purpose, because I wanted to bring metrical feet in as well. See if you can find where I hid it. :)


      I am iambic,
walking through the scattered stars and hexagons of snow.
  Hop-skip, hop-skip, the wetness soaking past my braces,
    drowning socks and shoes.
      These blessed Saturdays,
    made up of men and women tripping,
staggering, forgetting
    how to place their own two feet.
            It makes them seem more welcoming: deep drifts hide these
    corrupted ankles, twisted toes, unsteady knees.
  In sunlight, call me crippled;
      but so’s everyone on blind white mornings.
I will paint the blankness with this dream: that now
  I’m a gazelle in sun-drenched Kenya,
    stunned by this exception,
      still brave enough for each astonished step.

8 thoughts on “Footprints

  1. Laurie Kolp says:

    I love the ending, Joseph… beautiful poem!

  2. ladynimue says:

    I enjoyed reading this and creating the visuals :)

  3. James says:

    I like this a lot. I love the way the crippled parts of the speaker’s body are hidden allowing his imagination to run free while everyone around him struggles like he usually does. So nicely done, this poem

  4. I like the scattered stars and hexagons of snow very much – also the idea of snow as a leveler of sorts.

  5. twitches says:

    Loved it all, but especially this: In sunlight, call me crippled;
    but so’s everyone on blind white mornings.

  6. Tumblewords says:

    An enjoyable read – I’m particularly fond of the final sentence or stanza – it wields a wonderful connection.

  7. ms pie says:

    how heavenly to those who are wading through the thick of life everyday!!!.. and the leaping gazelle oh yeah!! now that secret sonnet…. something from within… i’d hafta guess hop-skip around there somewhere… as always an enjoyable blog to read…

  8. Laurie: thanks, glad you liked it!
    Nimue: many thanks :)
    James: I’m glad that came across, that’s what I was going for in a nutshell.
    Donna: everyone is equal when they’re slipping their way along the sidewalks. ^_^
    twitches: that line had about ten rewrites before I felt like I got it right… thanks!
    Sue: that was the first part I wrote, actually; the persona in the poem grew out of wondering who would have that thought at the end.
    ms pie: thank you! And the sonnet is in there, I promise.

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