Shoes that Walk

I put on my shoes, and they began to walk
Down a path, listening, while I mumbled and
talked.

They never heard the rain, nor the splash,
they just continued to walk, and simply walked
on past.

Flopping shoelaces, never tied in a knot,
Strings attached, like forget-me-nots,

Always dancing to stay out of puddles,
Listening to the tune of me, as Iwalked about
and muddled.

The soul bared the brunt, scraping the earth
Worn down by the salt and the girth.

Splitting seams, of these tightly worn shoes,
tongues wagging, as if they knew - smiling in mirth.

Focused on the miles ahead, bent with arms
swinging to an unsteady pace, unsure of my
tread. I marched on as if in a race.

Reaching a peak, I sat on an edge, not sure what
to do, so I looked down instead. And there I sat
stuck, like some gum to my shoe.

Unsure what to do, I sat there and I thought
about you.

The miles we’ve walked, now baring our soul,
although a bit weathered from the heavy toll.

But, there’s comfort in that, in these worn old
shoes - who have seen it all, as we’ve walked,
on these midnights strolls….

….and listening to these wonderful talks, in
these shoes that walk.