A poem: "Black Boot"

Black Boot

By Jenna Reimer

 

I am not a flower

Searching for something; a light,

A glitter of skies, of grass,

Of sustenance that beacons breath.

I am a stone.

No, a pebble that clings to the clod

Beneath a heavy black boot –

The pyre of a parasitic foot

Whose bulging heel breeds print,

After print on this earth;

I am swallowed, plumbing

The well of this boot.

Imprisoned by this black,

Pivot of heels and mouthless grooves,

I melt into the earth;

The dirt and I fly, suicidal

Into the canyon,

A valley of tomorrows.

The deep arch of earth I cannot habit,

Sucks me into a stasis of darkness.

A ingested pebble in sickened dust.