Flip flops (third poem in the series)

Flip flops

Slapping the heel

like an angry wife

without a sock

every other true color

using the space between

toes down to the bare bones

best at the pool when the water

drips off of you as a leaky faucet

turned to hot then into the cold

the flat shoe takes each step

against burning cement and

makes it air conditioned feet

a strap of plastic across the width

keeps the sun steady in that

clear sky.