Au revoir, chic friends.
Snow geese in flight
over daffodils
bloom boot season terminé.
Bon voyage, my French leather friends.
I shall miss our intimate mink oil caresses,
our moments of polish and shine,
your scent suspended genuine in frosty air.
À plus tard, chic friends.
I shall miss your elements of style,
your classic high heels, silver buckle
accentuation of ankles and upper calf.
Suited up with a skirt,
dressed down with jeans,
oohs and aahs never failed to escape the lips
of envious fashionistas
whenever we paired precise
the perfect outfit.
Au revoir, chic friends.
Together we were the correct combination of
sophistication with style,
always my feet upon your soles
warm and dry.
Adieu, my black leather boots.
To your original box you shall return,
your just reward bestowed.
May you repose in peaceful slumber
among those who have gone before you
to the back of my closet.
No heart to toss you to the dumpster,
though daylight reveals your heels worn
and your leather marred with traces of sidewalk salt.
Salut, chic friends!
You shall be solely missed
as I flip about in flops,
painted toenails exposed to summer madness.
Until we meet again in snows of paradise
I say au revoir,
Black Leather Boots.
But, fear not, mes amis!
You shall rise up
from my closet and punctuate my step among snowflakes,
for my expensive new
Italian leather boots
were definitely not made for a winter walk.

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