Always he’d leave them
where he dropped them,
one unlaced, the other tugged
enough to loosen that foot free.
Now before I go to bed
I put them where they’ll stumble
me in the dark, my bare skin
where his has been.
Always he’d leave them
where he dropped them,
one unlaced, the other tugged
enough to loosen that foot free.
Now before I go to bed
I put them where they’ll stumble
me in the dark, my bare skin
where his has been.
Beautiful!
Really surprised me at the end. Great poem.
Keeping the memory alive…
Pauletta, your lovely poem reminds me of a haiku by Buson
the piercing cold —
in our bedroom stepping
on my dead wife’s comb
Thank you! I love it. This poem was inspired by a photograph of shoes. (And the fact that I am always complaining about my husband leaving his shoes laying around. :-) )
i like it!
Lovely!
646895 70603Some genuinely superb blog posts on this site , regards for contribution. 162282
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