Brian’sPoems

Birkenstock

An ode to gratitude.

Those sandals sitting there,
looking good for their age,
are now quite comfortable,
contoured perfectly to my feet.

I did not make them,
but wear them every day
regardless of the weather,
and without any worry
about my appearance.

Those sandals are a gift
from the sacrificial cow
who provided the leather,
from the skilled worker
who expertly sewed them,
from my mother who asked,
“What would you like
for your birthday?”