Cowboy Boots

In my dreams last night
I awoke with a crazed longing
for a pair of cowboy boots.
There’s a place that sells them here in town.
I rushed down as soon as it was open.

Can I help you said the man.
Yes I said. I want a pair
of fabulous cowboy boots.
Let’s look he said.
You’re the first person
who’s ever asked for fabulous ones
but i think we can help.
Tell me what you want.

I want soft buttery leather I said,
the colour of darjeeling tea,
so that my toes and feet
which have only worn sandals for years
will have no reason at all to protest,
and so soft that my calves
won’t be chaffed
and I can wear them without socks if i want,
heels only an inch high
which will give me that bold
and confident stride,
absolutely plain, no ornamentation,
i’m really a plain person at heart
even though I occasionally overdo a bit
on the italian intaglio rings,
soles of leather that will quickly get supple,
and a little loop at the back
to pull them on.

I have just the thing the man said,
much to my surprise.
Who would have thought,
in our little town.
He disappeared into the back
and reappeared,
the boots in his hand,
just as I had described.
I slipped them on
over thin silk socks.
Perfect.

I wore them walking home,
in my cargo shorts and polo shirt
in the California morning sun.