Grandma's
Shoes
When
I was very little.
All the Grandmas that I knew.
All walked around this world
In ugly grandma shoes.
You know the ones I speak of,
Those black clunky heeled kind.
They just looked so very awful
that it weighed upon my mind.
For I knew, when I grew old.
I'd have to wear those shoes.
I'd think of that, from time to time.
It seemed like such bad news.
I never was a rebel.
I wore saddle shoes to school.
And next came ballerinas
Then the sandals, pretty cool.
And then came spikes with pointed toes.
Then platforms, very tall.
As each new fashion came along.
I wore them, one and all.
But always, in the distance.
Looming in my future, there.
Was that awful pair of ugly shoes
The kind that Grandmas wear?
I eventually got married.
And then I became a Mom.
Our kids grew up and left.
And when their children came along
I knew I was a Grandma.
And the time was drawing near.
When those clunky, black, old lace up shoes
Was what I'd have to wear.
How would I do my gardening?
Or take my morning hike?
I couldn't even think about
How I would ride my bike!
But fashions kept evolving.
And one day I realized.
That the shape of things to come
Was changing right before my eyes.
And now, when I go shopping.
What I see, fills me with glee.
For, in my jeans and Reeboks
I'm as comfy as can be.
And I look at all these teenage girls.
And there, upon their feet,
Are clunky, black, old Grandma shoes,
And they really think they're neat
When I was very little.