Little feet

I may have overdone it on the feet
Says the photographer
As he shows me
Pictures of tiny little toes
And the bottoms of perfect little feet
A newborn and her sisters
Pink and beautiful
But I say no
There can never be enough pictures
Of tiny little feet
Wiggling and wriggling
Tangling in a pile
Until it is difficult to tell which foot
Belongs to which girl
The world needs many more pictures
Of innocent little feet
For how could anyone be angry
Or vindictive or hateful
When faced with these pictures
How could anyone not
Be filled with happiness
Because these feet are pure joy
Someday their toenails
May be painted “berry bliss”
And their feet may slip
Into strappy sandals
Or black pumps
With many-inched heels
Those feet may peek out
Beneath little black dresses
Climb stairs to apartments
And reach eagerly for gas pedals
And tread who knows how many paths
On the other side of the globe
Until they sport well-earned calluses
But in these pictures
Little feet are young and smooth
Quivering with possibility
Waving to and fro
Dancing to internal music
Ticklish perhaps
Ready to love and be loved