Soldier's Feet

I have a pair of camouflage pants
but I don't remember buying them.
I found them on a high closet shelf
and they fit me just right but still
I'm sure I never picked them out
for myself, or took them as a gift.
I wouldn't even buy camouflage pants.
But here they are. I'm wearing them
as I write this after work with my
boots still on, not military boots
but boots nonetheless, with big
metal eyes and sturdy laces stitching up
the leather just broken in enough
to look like they're pulled
so tight they'd crush any part
of them human body inside.

That's the part of the soldier
that looks the most like a soldier
to me. The tops of boots meeting
the cuff of the pants. Even on me,
though I've never been to war
or to anything like war, they look
skilled and purposeful. The feet
are always at attention, always
on the lookout, ready to hold
the rest steady and let the gun
shoot. If the body dies, the feet
lower it to the ground and stand
up in their black robes, praying.