Emily Winters                                                                                                                   

My Shoes

Sun’s rays beating down,

Boxers trapped inside our corner;

Skin on faces blistering raw,

Reddening with shame my fair lady.

Grimy money hand to hand,

Currency,

Or bacteria farm:

Take your pick my sun.

Summer treat to seize the day:

Seize it by the throat.

I see it falling,

Watch it now…

But sprinkles already watering!

Falling, falling!

Down to the road!

Call the police!

Call the brigade!

Sprinkles smashing and asphalt melting,

All in spite of ourselves;

The day of the summer,

But the ice cream is burning…

Blazing a trail through my shoes.