Barefoot

It is just after daybreak and the dawn is still grey

When I go out for the morning paper

The sprinklers go on automatically about a half hour earlier

And everything is still wet with little puddles of water in the drive way.

The dog took off up the street and I instinctively run after him

To summon him back.

My path crosses the grass and since I am barefoot

I can feel the wet grass crunch and crackle beneath.

For a moment I forgot about the dog

And was back somewhere in my childhood

Running through the sprinklers on my front lawn

With my neighborhood buddies.

My bare feet and I have had some really memorable moments together.

We can remember crossing hot sand at the beach

And dashing for the water at the seashore for relief

and traversing a gravel road on the way to a swimming hole at camp.

We have sloshed along in riverbed mud, fishing

And scurried over sharp coral rocks at the beach

to avoid a menacing wave.

We have stepped on bugs, stickery thorns and an occasional tack

We have waded through slime in the marsh

And dangled off docks while talking to a friend

We scratched the dog’s back as he lay there by the fireplace

We have suffered through blisters from new shoes

And tested bathtub water together.

I can even remember… OUCH, I stubbed my toe on the curb.

Where is that damn dog anyway?

Mikeb