Have you sat in a car on a Saturday night
Parked on some main street
And watched the ceaseless, endless procession
Of the many kinds of feet?
Light feet, gay feet, and some that are sad,
Old feet that slowly plod,
Young feet, bare feet, feet that have been far,
And feet expensively shod.
Handsome feet, ugly feet, eager, and tired,
Feet that are down at the heels;
Watch all the feet, and somehow you can tell
What each owner of them feels.
May 30, 1937