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Moms' Garden Boots

Soft green, bold grey, and a touch of warm brown:

Their rubber soles stood strong

through summers of stomping in mud.

When dirt clung to the delicately placed flowers detailing their fabric,

the lovely designs stayed beautiful beneath the wear and tear-

so full of spirit and so calm in the midst of chaos.

 

They stood tall back then (just below the knees).

And they smelled of Mother: earthy and sweet.

When they clunked down the hill to the growth of green

and the start of Spring,

They were always followed by three pairs of bare feet.

They lovingly stood by as little toes squished in their footprints

and little fists grasped at worm tails.

 

They splashed through puddles and collected marks of time,

but remained lovely and forgiving-

forgiving of sneaky children jumping them in grey water

and sour lawn clippings.

Their size 8 frames hanging off of little-girl feet. 

 

And after an evening of sweaty Gardner work: planting seeds and kicking up dirt,

they always returned.

Neatly placed away on a shelf that became theirs:

Toe touching toe, heel touching heel, side-by-side. Hugging the walls.

Perfectly straight (no shifting an inch out of place even just for one day). 

 

Now, more than a decade later,

they still remain.

Still worn out under warm sun and still 

“tough as nails”.

 

Though they don’t stand as tall as they used to, the colors have been covered by layers of mud, and little toes don’t chase after them,

their character and gentle dependability endure.

They wait patiently (happily) in the left corner of the two-car garage,

by the shovel, hoe, and forgotten tennis balls.

Ready to play in the dirt another day.