Clamming

I'm in the mud up to my knees.
I know that my Mom would not be pleased.
Wiggling my legs, feeling the sea breeze,
I slip out of my boots
As easy as you please,
I now feel mud, between my toes.
The smell of the mud, so not like a Rose,
But more like today, the smell of decay.
I pull up each boot out of the mud,
One at a time and wipe off my feet,
Freeing them of grime. I'll have to
Go clamming again;
Some other time.