In These Shoes

Laces crossed as ribbons,
Simple stretches, and a quick
jump.
I'm ready to leave.

The black asphalt passes beneath
my white sneakers-
The tiny pebbles
friendly faces of the crowd.
It's good to see them.

The tap of each foot
and stunted breaths,
the faint drummers
pushing me forward.
It's good to hear them.

Laces crossed like ribbons,
Simple stretches, and a quick
jump.
It's home to be in them.