His Boots
I was in his boots again
carrying the weight
and wait
I could smell his finger tips
on the boot laces
the dirt and grime
that he shovelled out
of the earth’s skull
with his shoulders
and hands. Such iron tendons
that held my teenage years
nurtured them to grow
brought them up
from the ground below.
Gareth Culshaw is published in the UK and USA. He has his first collection by futurecycle press in 2018