|Shine (sculpture) by Willie Cole|
I stand outside the Oxfam shop
in front of rows of shoes.
I wonder, would I stand in yours,
if I had to choose?
Some tiny shoes aren’t very scuffed
because young feet outgrew them,
while those were such a comfy pair
their owner's half worn through them.
Not so these, they must have hurt;
they’re scarcely used - no speck of dirt –
and those with heels so high and thin
were never made for walking in?!
There are shoes quite narrow
and shoes like boats
with bulges made by bunions;
there are football boots that boys in specs
might tie with laces and string round their necks,
like the men who sell the onions.
See, those are the fashion of years gone by,
discarded on a whim.
Although they’re almost good as new,
it’s plain that they would never do,
for one must ‘keep up with the Jones’s.’
So all of these shoes, where invisible feet
have imprinted their character, careless or neat,
hold their stories to tell, if we listen and look,
just as clearly as if they appeared in a book.
And what would the story of our shoes be
if they, too, stood in line for the whole world to see?
Thanks go to Brian Miller (Waystation One or dVerse poets pub) for this prompt.
But now, I'm going to link this to I Saw Sunday, too, because the sight of those black shoes heaped into a gorilla face, underlined once again that things are not necessarily what they seem. Even the most commonplace objects can make us think again when viewed in a new light... Which is good point to ponder on any day of the week.