The Shoes

Ripping open the package
there were shoes in there
black ones, one-inch heel
fairly simple
brown paper
protecting the leather
from scratches or wear
from shipping
taking the paper away
from the waiting
they seemed to
ask “are we going anywhere?”
placed both on the floorThe music playing in the background...
slipping feet within
walking around the
empty house
they moved up and down
the wooden worn out
floor boards stomping
loud responses
the music
playing in the background
of memory set aside for
building life
taking them off
placing them at the
foot of a dress
demanding when
the box thrown
out in the recycled trash
and the shoes
held promise
smiling at the new leather
the unscratched
newness of possible
caressing night lights
haven’t left the house
they sat there at the bottom
of that dress waiting for
the demanding dress
the caressing night lights
the possible

 

Photo Credits

Photo from Pixabay – public domain 

 

 

 

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