Listen To Your Feet Poem by Morgan Michaels

I am tired of pacing these mean streets-
Dragging me dogs along the hard-packed,
Rope-smacked, chalked up, sun-struck sheets
Of glittering concrete- lots cracked
From breathing and exhaling summer's heat.
Streets that brook no posture but the standing
Grinding arches, heel and bridges sanding
Bringing to mind no plan but quick retreat.
So, I've pledged my feet a Wicklow shillelagh
And a green hill to clamber up and down
And a while naked underground
Steeped in hot sand, beside a racing lake
A summer breeze to floss between their toes
Then, up-propped-up, a nighttime of repose.