I wanted red boots,
red rubber boots,
like the other girls wore
when I was six or seven
. . . wonderful boots
smacking mud puddles
. . . boots with the tops
rolled over, so I could see
warm fuzzy linings
hugging their pale winter legs.
I wore black galoshes!
Sometimes
water seeped in
over their tops.
My wet feet
resented those red boots
the other girls wore
when I was six, or seven . . . .
When I was older
I had red boots
but it was not a time
for red boots.
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