Wednesday, February 20, 2008

rubber boots


A poem for this time of year on our wind-battered, warm-frozen, earth broken, ice-spliced island:

Rubber Boots, A Love Story

They sing of fish guts, cow paddies,
and mud puddles; the places you've been.
They embrace the back of your knees, calves
held in the whoosh and slap, a lullaby
in this season of leaving.
An antidote to empty coat hangers,

they wait for you like dogs
at the back door.

by Bren Simmers [from Arc Poetry Magazine]

4 comments:

Michael said...

I once had a job in northern Quebec where I spent a summer in rubber boots. By summer's end I'd taken all the hair off my calves thanks to the chaffing of my rubber boots. It never really grew back. Sometimes love can really change a person!

The expression "ice-spliced"? Wonderful! Hoping you too can feel spring's a comin'...

Alison Dyer said...

I grew up in wellies. In southern England, they were also our winter boots (with plastic bag liners)! Now, I wear them most of the summer in the Cove. I like footwear one can slip in and out of easily. Forget crocs (never bought a pair). I need something that holds up in mud, water, gluck and various elements.

As for spring. It's far too early for here. Although we're in a mild spell and rain has withered the snow to show pockets of dog shit and cig butt ends. I'd prefer snow until at least May. Nothing happens before that here anyway.

clairesgarden said...

sh yes, the lovely aroma of welly boots!
I tend not to wear mine much now as the fallen arches in my feet need a bit more support. they do come in ots of trendy colours and patterns so I might be tmpted. . .

Alison Dyer said...

yes, even good old wellies have been taken over by fashion. however, i'm tempted to get a pair that fishermen use - tall & well lined for cold winters. my 11-yr-old Sorels have to retire sometime!