Thursday, January 5, 2012


Forget DNA, mitochondrial or otherwise
When first I met my birth-mother
After a few hours of chatting like old friends
We both lay on her bed, staring down
At our pudgy bare feet, hers and mine

We had just been going to take a nap
But now we were giggling and amazed
For if ever there was any proof more
Convincing than these fat feet at the end
Of our legs, hers and mine, I cannot

Think what it could be – chubby feet
Incongruous at the end of fairly long legs;
My husband always maintained they were
Just more leg turned up with nails painted
On the end and here were another pair

Just like them – hah! It was in my genes
Not abnormal, just inherited ...

originally published on Big Tent poetry July 1,2011


  1. I have to laugh at this, since most of my family members have feet just like yours! We call them Hobbit feet, as wide and high as they are long.

    Now to move to another body part...your eyes (if those are yours) are gorgeous!

  2. Thank you you Karen - yes, they are my eyes! It's amazing what a bit of paint and mortar will do ...

  3. I love your poem about feet and you've told it perfectly!!! My daughter has my mother's feet. It's just amazing!

  4. Feet are funny things to pass on - my one daughter lucked out and got my elegant mother-in-law's ... (shapely legs and hands also) but the other alas, inherited mine ...