14. Work Shoes

There was dried grass stuck

to the soles of my black work shoes

and dust all across the toes.

The last time I had them on my feet

I remember those toes… they almost froze.

I helped carry my Uncle Bruce

through the snow to his grave.

Uncle Bruce was a man of the snow,

and wouldn’t you know it,

it snowed that day.

It was a swirling, dancing, haze

it was Bruce’s good-bye wave.

I pulled them out again today

to say good-bye to cousin-Cal.

Separated by age and health,

but wouldn’t you know it, we became pals.

Oh, the evolution of life

we’ve witnessed in just two years.

What we are now living is the fruit

of our collective appetites and fears.

Presently, it seems

we’re evolving through a collective death…

but with death, new life,

as hope endlessly renews.

Today, I slowed down enough to notice.

My work shoes had evolved

into funeral shoes. --

Arch C. Jones

Book: "Into The Now", (presale) by Arch Cowan Jones

Website: Intothenow.org

Instagram: IntoTheNowOfficial

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