My Shoes and My Accelerator

My feet, as I awaken,
Are bare and cold
In my untidy bedroom’s homely stillness.
I slip upon my pedestrian pedals
A pair of cotton, dark hued socks
Which harbor none of the holes
That constant wearers give
To their friendly, comfortable hosiery.
Then, after all of my other dressing is complete,
I drop into a casual, stylish pair
Of brown walking shoes,
Designed for elegance, as well as utility,
And proceed to gather my belongings
For a trip to the coffee house
And the market.
As I turn my steering wheel
In my foreign-made sedan,
I lightly tap, then engage
The accelerator pedal,
To accompany the countless other cars
On the road making their precisely sworn
And detailed journeys
To the familiar
And the unknown…