By Natalie F.
Your burnt orange dusty
And bright,
You draw stares
From those who have never seen
Your kind
Quite the same
High tops, you are
My small rebellion,
You give unapologetic
New meaning
And let me wear individuality
Like a badge of honor,
Let me wear sunshine
On my feet
You are pumpkin pie
And fire,
Time-faded embers,
Spark and warmth
I know your linings
Like the back of my hand,
better,
And your soft canvas is my
Silk and velvet
Your heel logo scuffed
Into obscurity,
Dark stains creep up
Your second set of laces
Like a shadow on the moon
Rubber soles warped
To fit the contours
Of my soul
You are my perfect gloves
Your laces
Hug my ankles,
Make me strong
With your fearlessness
In you I’ve sprinted
Twirled
Trekked miles
And stood still
You carried me through NYC
On the best day of my life,
Have walked city streets
And linoleum,
Crossed state lines
And football fields
High tops,
You are my wings
With you I walk on air,
Fly,
The world a catwalk,
An adventure
I don’t care who sees me on
Oh high tops,
You make smeared canvas and rubber
My stilettos
And ponytails
My tiaras.