Oda a mis zapatos

mis zapatos
descansan
toda la noche
bajo mi cama

cansados
se estiran
se aflojan
las cintas

muy anchos
se duermen
y sueñan
con andar

recorren
los lugares
adonde fueron
en el día

y amanecen
contentos
relajados
suavecitos

-Francisco Alarcón

It’s still February 1 for a few more minutes here. I’m sneaking in a poem for St Brigid.

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