The child walked barefoot

No shoes.

The child rubbed grit, well borne

From the soles of her feet

From the soul

No shoes.

The child stopped to pull thorns

From the tender leathery spine

Of her feet, so neat

No shoes.

The child hesitated to walk through

The sparkling ice-sharp wastes

Of the glen, she moved on

Again and again

No shoes.

Wincing

No shoes.

Transcendent, defiant

Self-reliant…

No shoes.