NaPoWriMo F15teen
MY LONG SUFFERING SHOES
It’s an age old habit,
just kicking them off,
then leaving them where they lie.
Right now in the kitchen
are red driving shoes,
and hiking boots with the laces still tied,
Here by the back door,
sitting askew,
are red, heart- covered, slip- on sneakers.
Out on the front porch,
tough, elastic, trek sandals
worn by all the well known fun seekers.
Completely forgotten,
there by the pantry,
my Roxy fleece lined slides.
Champion tennies,
grey – green slash of neon,
wait, silent, flipped on their sides.
It’s true there are two
shoe racks in my closet
holding a dressy, lace heel,
black leather Clark’s,
and my old comfy clogs,
worn simply for the way that they feel.
I have shoe trees to help them
hold that new shoe shape,
if I would simply remember to use them.
And I do! Then I don’t.
Consistent I am not,
but I do polish all with soft boot creme.
I mean, of course,
those with the all leather uppers
get buffed to a military, high spit shine.
The toes AND the heels (Dad)
and the sides and the tops
all brushed ’til they’re looking real fine.
But shiny or not
I have to admit
I ultimately throw them all hither
at the end of the day
to lie where they lay
as the cares of the day simply wither.
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