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Getting On to Barefoot Time

I’ve yet to see a calendar with May 1st marked Barefoot Day. As kids, that day had been (in our minds) officially proclaimed and it didn’t matter if threre was a slight blanket of too much dew on the ground. Only Mama had the power to predict the weather and to proclaim, and if May the first wasn’t in the upper 100’s, I can just hear mama say….”Keep those shoes on before you take your death of cold.”

Our disappointment was indescribable we didn’t get to go barefoot the first day of May although we had the rest of summer to end up with rags soaked in coal oil wrapped around our stumped toes and an odd sock on one foot to protect the bandage smeared with that terrible-smelling Kaola salve that Mama said would would draw out the infection from the stone bruises on our feet, hoping all would clear before school started so we could wear our new shoes.

Getting On To Barefoot Time

By Mary Ann Gamble

Shrugging off a winter’s nap

spring fills the air.

Fluffy clouds, the land is warming,

It’s getting on to barefoot time.

Shoes are tossed aside

toes set free…to wiggle

in the sand and tender

grass generating a sense of freedom.

Listening to the birds warbling

welcoming the changing season.

A childhood pleasure…patiently waiting it’s proper time.

Deeply breathing springtime air,

with bare feet on the warm earth,

but…if a bit too “nippy”

in your part of the country,

just “bide your time.”

Going barefoot in springtime

loses none of it’s delicious quality

…in the waiting.

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