Shoes

The voice in my head says

“Be here now.” I stare down

at my scuffed shoes, thinking,

“Where else could I possibly be?”

In front of me, blinking, a sign

says, “You are here.” An arrow

marks the spot. So, I see,

I must be exactly where I’m

supposed to be, though

newly arrived in a strange place

where these worn shoes

have delivered me. I am weary

and ponder, but only briefly,

the merits of indecision before

outbound, heading off

in a new direction, saying,

“Who am I to impede these feet

from finding their true and

final destination?”

Advertisements

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 )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ 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 )

Connecting to %s