Feet
His feet were like polished bronze refined in a furnace
mine were long and pronated
not like those who wore handstitched leather sandals
purposely covered in the dark most of the time
was I ashamed of them?
I wondered if they would ever stop
prayed that they wouldn’t be too small. How conceited
always crusty no matter how much lotion was applied
stepped on constantly
frequently stubbed and bloodied from broken glass
faithfully they supported me
as I carried my newborns from the hospital
marched in demonstrations downtown
steadied drunken friends
lifted turntables and speakers
stood at bus stops in the rain
kept me from going over the edge
even when they were rejected
during a ceremony in high school
by a senior who refused to wash them
because they weren’t white like his
Shaped by the realities of his environment, Daniel A. Gamlin is a Detroit-based poet, musician, and songwriter whose creative work is deeply rooted in themes of introspection, spirituality, and resilience. Hailing as a graduate of Wayne State University, he draws inspiration from legendary poets such as Robert Hayden and Etheridge Knight.