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Redux

Shoes; a pair fit in my hand

Shoes sometimes bronzed
for museum-reverence, dusty
display on living room mantle

Unfathomable they once
thundered across hardwood
floors in a symphonic cacophony
of thumping, giggles, pure joy.

Little shoes; toy-like.

Worn soles, tattered seams,
frayed laces a dingy gray

Just a pair of shoes. Hers.

Two little shoes in a box
reminding me of a time when
questions asked were serious,
mock-profound, the answers
given in return simple

not vice versa

She walked in those shoes
a long time ago, and now will
have the chance to walk in mine
and someday, not so many years
ahead, she will have a pair of
little shoes, sitting in a box
and will wax on the unfathomable
truth that her own son once was
small enough to wear them

Shoes. A pair fit in my hand…

By poetluckerate

I am a poet, writer, and teacher who moved from Minnesota to New Orleans in 2008 then returned to Minnesota in 2018 - hopefully, to stay.

I lived in the most urban of settings, and the rural Midwest. These perspectives impact my writing in very unique ways.