Tumbling from the box, they shine
with the brightness of white canvas.
Stiff and fresh, stark against the ground.
Shoelaces crisp and tied in a neat bow.
They squeak and sing of their first steps.

They skid across the pavement, while
feet dig into unbroken heels that resist
the steady bend of circumstances.
They tread new terrain with a bounce,
springing up in recoil upon slick grass trails.

Comfortable and trusted, they stride forward.
Relentless in the blazing sun, scaling
the heights, with fraying shoelaces
and threadbare canvas stained with soil.
They leave behind a legacy of footprints to follow.

By Valerie Sapora Rains on September 6, 2004