soft, wet, moist and tickly
tickles my feet like mom used to tickle
when i was a baby
when i took my first step
stumbling, my toes gripped
and stopped me from tripping –
that was when the only shoes i wore
were booties
and soft little sockies
no synthetic soles and tight leather strappies
but feet that trod on earth
on soft brown soil, squishy
like gooey chocolate brownies.
i never did like shoes
they made me feel too high
like earth was far away
ground is better, closer
deeper, down
i like to leave the prints of my bare feet
on the sand, on the soil, on the water
they’re my feet, and not the world’s Nikes.