Shoes
Yearning to dance, he went
to a discount store with
very little money to spend.
He needed new old shoes.
He’d been saving to buy beer
that evening, and aftershave,
and a ten dollar ticket
to a singles’ dance.
Loneliness would sometimes
crowd out the need for food,
but he couldn’t dance without
leather soled shoes.
He needed to buy black shoes,
inconspicuous ones that hid
poverty and social class and
help him fit in at the dance.
Of fifty or so pairs of brown
and black shoes, a pair
of black loafers still shined,
appeared almost new.
He wondered briefly whose
toes had shifted in those shoes--
Was he a dancing man?
A rich man? A lonely man?
He slipped into the mystery
man’s shoes: A perfect fit.
A new confidence,
A feeling of wealth.
Tonight in the dance hall,
dancing away his blues,
will be a man with
inconspicuous black shoes.
Copyright © Darrell Saunders | Year Posted 2009
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