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An Ode to My Old Rain Boots

Oh, you precious tattered old pieces of junk

with the rubber falling off to the wayside with each step

polka-dots so faded they’ve turned into moldy splotches

that make me scared to even try and shove you on my feet.

 

Oh, you ratty two-soles hidden in my memory

who stand guard by the door, watching me walk away 

and put on the newer, prettier upgrades I bought

once I was old enough to purchase my own pair.

 

Oh, you horrible looking reminders of my past

I used to run for hours squishing torn fabric between my toes

squealing with joy and stomping in puddles

back forever ago when cold and wet were in season.

 

Oh, you ancient relics of my childhood trauma

I shoved you away like I shoved the screaming as I ran

faster and faster into the trees

and stomped the whole way home once I’d been found.

 

Oh, how much I didn’t think I’d miss you

you stupid yellow boots of old.

how wrong I was! I cried for hours that day

when I saw you were finally gone. 

 

Kristen Bastin

Louisiana Tech '20

Technical Writing and Creative Writing student at Louisiana Tech.
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