Thurman P. Woodfork

THAT WHICH WE CALL A BOOT

Boots, boots, many sorts of boots
I wore all kinds, usually those that would suit
The job that I was assigned at the time,
And as far as I’m concerned, that was just fine.
They ranged from combat to the safety ones,
Because, in my job, I didn’t require a gun,
But I needed boots that would prevent a shock
Of electricity from suddenly stopping my clock.
I employed electrons in my war, you see –
I didn’t hunt Charlie, he came looking for me.
Although sometimes, I had to make a quick flip
From working on the radar to take a rapid trip
To the perimeter wall and my machine gun
To help toss a wrench into Charlie’s fun.
Since I never traveled very far on my feet,
In search of the enemy or in prudent retreat,
I never thought much about those boots of mine,
Mostly, they were just something else to shine.

Submitted for the October 2002 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Combat Boots