Her Feet

by Tamara Madison

She wore mules with maribou poufs,

clear plastic high-heels to show off

toned calves, slim ankles, high arches.

Now she wears flat shoes in two sizes,

a brace on one foot, compression socks.

There are thick calluses on the braced foot.

I cut her nails, work the scissors under

the thick keratin to clip the bent-under tips.

I put lotion on her feet and legs; skin

flakes off, skin that hasn’t seen the sun

in tens of years. I help her dress for breakfast,

clean up when she doesn’t make it

to the toilet. She jokes about being dressed

like a baby by her daughter. How awful

to have lived too long! she says.

Before she goes to bed she lays out

tomorrow’s knit pants and top,

lines up the brace and two-sized shoes,

and says a prayer for everyone on her list

before falling asleep with the thought

that maybe this will be the night when He

comes to bear her away in his chariot of air.

* * * * *                     

Tamara Madison is the author of the chapbook The Belly Remembers and two full-length volumes of poetry, Wild Domestic and Moraine, all published by Pearl Editions. Her work has appeared in Chiron Review, Your Daily Poem, A Year of Being Here, Nerve Cowboy, the Writer’s Almanac, Sheila-Na-Gig, and many other publications. She has recently retired from teaching English and French in Los Angeles and is happy to finally get some sleep. More about Tamara can be found at tamaramadisonpoetry.com.