For Diane, who helped me find the shoes...

White Shoes

White shoes
with teal stripes
that grip glass surfaces,
backward grips
for the not me places...

White White shoes
with teal stripes,
bowling shoes
the rage of Paris,
everyone is wearing them,
everyone but me
except for that one afternoon
when they were magical shoes
that carried me up and around winding stone,
arching, flying wings of stone song
and hidden passages
to small rooms that hold secrets
and broken parts of what was...

White shoes
with teal stripes
fly, spin, and carry me up
and over thresholds
where tiny doors creak open
and invite,
if you dare,
to cross over
into dark places and light places
huge places that are smaller than small
and bigger than you could ever imagine,
never to return in the same way...

White shoes
with teal stripes sit in my room
covered in dust,
with scrapes that show the leather
worn in places
like me
revealing the steps taken,
stones worn smooth
with time.

Lea Goode-Harris ©
September 21, 2001

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