Memories painted with foot ink
Are carried along roads scarred by dust
Her mind a field of warm memories
Of little fragile feet.

Inhabited stories
Laughter shared
Promises unkept

Sounds of thumping children in the play yard.
Warm fingers knotting  laces
The harsh scrub from adult fingers
Cleaning to please her feet.

The naked skin of a ball
Feels like the clotted sweat
Of Kiprotich after he has run a mile.
Rough and victorious.

She reminisces
when mother first
caressed the little fragile feet.
She, a squealing three year old.
Her warm fingers coiled her laces
As a deep tender voice echoed,
'This should make you the perfect princess love'
'Oh Mummy….'

Purple pink ribbons
From above the shelf
Mother can see her now.
A lonely young adult.

She longs to fill her emptiness
And remind her of the long happy walks in the park

White shoes with pink purple ribbons
Their beauty flourishes in dusty boxes
As they long to fill their owners' soul
Once again