“The law of his God is in his heart; his steps do not slip.”
After replacing the carpet with wood
the stairs were as glossy as a roller rink,
as slick as the porcelain of a kitchen sink.
Descending in socks was an auto-death wish.
Even Sunday’s best lacked grip.
But court shoes and hi-tops and rubber-bottomed slippers
wore the magic of spiders and creepers and lizards,
were the wheels of a car on a hill with new brakes.
O the difference that a good sole makes.