Fifty Feet
If you saw fifty feet, you’d think differently,
Two hundred and fifty toes pointing up to the sun,
Ankles attached to stiffened legs,
Fifty feet of pale soles, worn and calloused from life,
Fifty feet that felt socks and touched water and danced,
Two hundred and fifty toenails degrading in the sunlight,
If you saw it, your perspective would be different,
Feet of twenty five children,
Poking from underneath the plastic,
Charred black, chilled blue,
The feet of twenty five people you know,
Their skin, their touch,
Hearts no longer pumping,
Fifty feet, lying dead still in the gusts,
Waiting for the next world,
Please don’t,
Don’t tell me they are just ‘bodies’,
If you saw fifty feet, you’d see things differently.
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