They sit behind closed closet doors
in back of the shoe rack, gathering dust.
Two-toned in black and white,
four inch heels to elongate the leg
toes so narrow their tips turn up
after years of emptiness.
Ground-in talc mottles the inside
used oh so many times to smooth the sole,
pressure points etched in long dried sweat
from happier bare legged days.
Witness to her previous life
they sat primly crossed in corporate talks
hid behind podiums and knelt at pews
clicked down hallways, sat quietly grieving
in cold rooms filled with overwhelming floral scent,
danced at weddings and stood higher still,
tips of heels up off the floor
for a lifetime of New Year’s kisses.
These Spectators, aptly named
sit waiting to see the sun again.
lillian the home poet 
🙂 Wow, they’ve had an interesting life! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
So nice to see you here tonight over my evening glass of wine!
Yep — these heels have done some walking but alas, my high heeled days are drawing to a close.
LikeLike
Nice one.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you liked it. I’m in the comfort stage of life, including shoes! 🙂
LikeLike
Hi Lillian –
Shoes – ah, a most excellent symbol of the paths we’ve taken. I remember the corporate shoe well. I don’t think I miss them though I still like to wear big heels when I substitute teach 😉
I love the transitions of your shoes’ life – we follow you through your footsteps here – beautiful.
am:)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Since we walk to church in the North End, Boston’s Italian area, I rarely wear heels anymore … And when I do, it takes a few moments to adjust to new heights! :). Glad you liked this one :). Happy Monday!
LikeLike
🙂
LikeLike