My slippers have become dear old friends.
Aging with them as we both show ragged ends.
Keeping my feet warm when it’s cold outside.
Knowing they are always there by my bedside.
Soles are worn down but lately, aren’t we all.
Wearing them, I won’t stub my toe and fall.
Just like me, an extra crease here and there.
But when I walk, my feet won’t be bare.
Now I consider them a mask for my feet.
Not going to walk them out on the street.
A present from the kids some years ago.
Wrapped neatly with a nice little bow.
Up and put on my slippers when I wake.
Now off to the washroom so I can make.