FEET TO FEET

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 ...

S.E.Ingraham©

originally published on Big Tent poetry July 1,2011