As, shod in Ecco boots you hike
through all the joys of poetry
remember sandal-wearers like
Mark, Peter, Janet and Henry.
In attics in the candle's glow
with shaking fingers we imbibe
the cheapest plonk because you know
we are the outcasts of the tribe.
~~~~~~~~~~~
(Terese, no malicious intent about Ecco boots. I felt a twinge of envy because I press my nose to the glass and yearn for them.)
Janet
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