i (heart) my boots

My Winter Work Boots
I slip them on and am immediately transported back…

Back to muddy mornings with arms full of hay
stomping through manure like Godzilla
heedless of where each foot lands
knowing I’m invincible.
Kicking ice out of buckets, kicking open gates,
and kicking memories out of frozen earth molded to a horseshoe.

Back to cold days when my nose felt red as I slide on the bridle.
I use the nearest stool, whether it be a hill, a tree , a trailer, or the hitch off the bumper.
I have to go bareback, my feet won’t fit in the stirrups,
His hide is overgrown - thick and itchy.
Each hoof breaks the thin crust covering the soft under-belly of winter.
My cheeks prick with icy hot glitter floating in the rays of the sun.

I wear them now, on different terrain
excited to show off my country fortitude in the city
almost smelling the earthy pasture scent of muck
almost feeling the scratch of a stray piece of hay in the lining
still feeling invincible as I traverse the parking lot
and stomp heartily into the store to buy some milk and eggs.
by Kristen Inman
December 18, 2008