Treads Bare

I wear my father’s shoes
the ones he left
beside the easy chair
when he slipped into slippers
at the end of a retired day.
They sat there
when we found him
and only left their spot
when we emptied out his framer residence.

His shoes were only slightly worn
so I took them
along with other prizes
from his life well-lived.
They are orthopedic,
and I’ve found them easier
to traverse the city
than my own purchased footwear.
They serve me well
as they no doubt served him.

I know I cannot walk
in these retrieved sneakers forever.
I’m as sure of that
as my father’s continued lack of interest in them.
Someday,
the treads bare
the straps frayed
the stitches torn,
the shoes will be no good for anyone.
Someday, though,
is not today.
I can fill my father’s shoes
for at least a little longer.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s