Feet

Was contemplating my feet shod in my favorite red shoes the other day and marveled at the intricacy and delicacy of the small bones. So... here's a little something by Pablo Neruda. It's not really about feet, but it's so lovely. I will try to find an appropriate ode to feet though.

Your Feet
When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone,
your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight
rises upon them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple
of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes
that have just flown away,
your wide fruit mouth,
your red tresses,
my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because they walked
upon the earth and upon
the wind and upon the waters,
until they found me
— Pablo Neruda.