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Shoes
by Richard VinceMy toe still smarts from trying on
A shoe that was too small, just to see
How it feels to wear her shoes.
I could never walk in them. Perhaps
That is final confirmation, if
That were needed, that I will
Never know her as I wish to.
My words may be big, but my talk
Remains small: phrase after inconsequential phrase
Materialises to fill the time in which
I am afraid to say what I think
And seek answers I wish to know.
Fear is a barrier that protects her
From my ill considered words and
Probing questions by reminding me
How little either would achieve.
These deadly salvos of words become
Resigned to their fates as
Internal soliloquies, living out
A lonely existence in the land
Of the unspoken.
And there, so far away, is she:
That smile I would love to raise,
That head into which I would
Love to climb, and those shoes
In which I would love to walk,
Not because of where they go
Or how they feel on my feet,
But because they are so very her.
05/25/2008 Posted on 05/26/2008
Copyright © 2024 Richard Vince
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 05/27/08 at 03:25 PM To know how it is to be someone else, be inside the thoughts, the footsteps, the process of being is an elusive goal that you have captured so emotionally with great empathy here. smh |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 06/02/08 at 06:57 PM The longing here is almost a solid manifestation of the words you use to serve up your heart, and what a tender heart it is! |
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