To Dirty Soles

that never seem to get clean even as I scrub you with gravel and spittle you daily with complaints you are content to knead the dirt rejoice in it even every step a sloppy kiss to newton who ignored you and courted an apple but no matter these skies of reaching hands and gaping mouths it suffices to remember they once joyously suckled on you were love bathed softly after the long dusty road and sweetened with oil I won't forget the old ways soles held the string as we swept the sky