Pieces of my foot
have been falling off for days
small pieces
–hardening themselves
curling to mimic plastic
they boycott the work I force upon them
taking their chances
that seceding from my body will
allow them a better life
they each leave a younger sister
in their place
–tender sprigs of too new life
who yelp each time they are stepped upon
My foot, you see,
is out of place in shoes.
He is used to feeling
free grass between toes
hugged by cold ground
and these boots, well,
they send the skin on my foot
hiking.