A Poem

I'll be 100% honest: I'm still struggling a bit to get back into the swing of things.  We moved two and a half weeks ago, but packed for a week before that, and are continually in the process of getting all of the unnecessary moving stuff out of our condo.  It's been a lot, and I apologize for the irregularity of some of the posting that's been going on.  Please accept this Pablo Neruda poem as an olive branch; I'll get better.

"Your Feet"
When I cannot look at your face
I look at your feet.
Your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet.
I know that they support you,
and that your sweet weight rise above them.
Your waist and your breasts,
the doubled purple of your nipples,
the sockets of your eyes that have just flown away,
Your wide fruit mouth,
Your red tresses, my little tower.
But I love your feet
only because
they walked upon the wind and upon the waters
until they found me.