shoe shining

the new old shoes

"Make the shoes shine again,"
      I’m tired now. 
            Too scathing to scruff,
            too rusted to rust,
      I am tired now. 
"You can make the shoes shine still,
tomorrow."

I’m breaking them in,
turning their mahogany leather
wrinkled like skin, 
the flat of my feet so unaccustomed,
the backs standing stiff
my ankles skid against,
my legs know no rest
and I am tired. 
I am too tired now
to shine my shoes. 

This is me, lying down.
Working, the pain will make its rounds
recovering, I will 
blister and sprain
and bruise these feet all the same,
so what’s the use in shiny new shoes
anyhow? 

I am tired now,
and I can always try to make it all shine
tomorrow.