Bare My Sole

The moist October air
Puts the curls back in my hair
Away, away, away, I’ve been
Out in the Desert for 30 years
Yet, born out here was
My Pioneer Spirit —
My grandparents survived
With soil, toil and grit.
My parents carried on
with God and good will.
So, here I sit
No shoes to fill…
Stickered feet
Of my own desire
To return with bare soles
In these modern times
Fat and well fed
Much longer to survive
Than my pioneering
Great-grandfather
Who out here died!
A bout of pneumonia
After their posse did find
The lost little girl
Out in a world most unkind.