Impermanence

The sole lifts up, swings, and scuffs the cement. Swinging laces, knotted, with ends frayed. Leather dry, cracked and faded, flexing and stretching with every movement. Another lift, swing and contact. Touch down, the eagle has landed. Hooray. Iteration after iteration. With each revolution, each turn, the sole slowly breaks down. Slowly, persistently torn, shredded, and strewn across the sidewalk. Donating itself, ritual sacrifice, for some unseen greater good, that then washes it down the drain. Some heaven this is. Out of memory and out of time. How much longer can it last, one asks? The real question: why it should need to last?