Crossed ankles, rocking heel,
jiggling one leg, jiggling both,
the slow fast toe tap,
the quick bounce off the ball of a foot,
sandals, high heels,
Dr Scholl’s, mules,
flip-flops, sneakers and socks,
quiet feet,
left behind right,
tucked in and still.
All this movement,
an extension of our thoughts –
anxious if she’s called on,
or eager to be heard.
My own foot sways,
slow and comforting,
marking time like a weight
on the end of a pendulum.
The woman next to me
eyeballs the motion.
“My mother would have said
to stop that.”
My mother said,
“With all these meetings,
when do you have time
to get anything done?”
buffaloed 