I tripped on the pavement.

My shoelace.

Tattered, frayed and torn.

No bow.

Not even a knot.

Just a fraction of what used to be.

Get a new shoelace,

People tell me.

And then they look at me with

Quizzical expressions

When I say I like the one

I have.

Why would I want to keep the dirty, tattered

Lace.

Why?

Because it held strong

Through mud

Through rain

And dry spells.

Through sunshine

Through grass

And unkempt roads.

It’s not just

Any lace.

On any shoe.

It kept me safe, tied tightly

All those miles I walked with you.