Monday, March 28, 2011

Fresh Air

I leapt blithely into a rude awakening,
The way one sighs happily when resting in newly cleaned sheets
And wakes up in a sweat after a troubling dream.
Another week of unsolicited disturbances,
I tried to shut the door on your pretty speeches
But you stuck your foot in, and, like a clumsily scribbled tale,
Someone had to bring you back your orphaned shoe.
Instead of flinging it in your face, I handled it gently.
Didn't go as far as polishing, but, swallowing my bile,
I presented the clunky shoe to your open hands.
Then without even looking me in the eye,
You turned your heels, and all was silent again.
But the scent of your shoe's interior lingers.
Time to open the windows again, let in the fresh air.

1 comment:

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