The Shoe

Poetry

Photo by James Crewdson on Unsplash

I’ve been cut down like a tree for someone else’s benefit
I’ve been the last nail for so many people’s hanging picture
I’ve burnt to make winters of so many people unthreatening
I’ve been the last car coming to a halt in the dead night for too many people

I’ve been the forest parents warned their children never to explore, lest they grow to resemble me

I’ve been that one broken toy that they hoped they could’ve fixed
I’ve been those stammered words on so many tongues that caused them embarrassment
I’ve been that last look they cast like they would at a sunset
I’ve been a scar that your beautiful face never forgot

I’ve been a shadow beautiful things eternally cast

I’ve been the burden you threw away before you fell in love again
I’ve been the grey sky on so many of your important days
I’ve been the shattering the glass has always feared
I’ve been the sunshine while you stood on thin ice

I’ve been the curse you wished to consult Shamans about

I’ve been the rotten piece of heart you couldn’t be surgical about
I’ve been the shoe on the hitchhiker’s mind they left on the mountain for good

My noise is for the wilderness
My loyalty to no one in particular
My love for nothing in particular
My prayers for nothing in particular . . .

Moin, 2025