Shoes
Originally published at Lindsay Eland dot com. Please leave any comments there.
Baby shoes kick the air wondering what they are
Toddler shoes stumble and babble on the ground
Kids shoes run and run and run and run, jump, and run and run and run
Teen shoes kick back and kick off, swagger and even strut every now and then
Adult shoes walk sure and straight, confident in no where to go…then over years and years they shuffle down the hallway for a pot of tea and sound like slippers
New shoes click and clack, flaunt, strut, run, jump and dance to whatever music is played
Old shoes scuffle and talk when they walk, miles and miles and miles of memories to chat about
High heels, slippers, clogs, pedal-pushers, cowboy boots, sandals, tennies, flippers, cleets, clod-hoppers, rain boots
Shoes
We remember the special ones. They’re hard to forget. Leaving an imprint on us somewhere…somewhere on our soles.
We remember.
The one’s we wore on the first day of 5th grade, or the heels we teetered on to the prom, the cleets that dug up the dirt during the game, the warm slippers we slipped our feet into by the fire.
Shoes
Taking us places we want to go, and dragging us to those we don’t want to.
As torn and worn as we are, but as ready and eager to get out into the world and live as our hearts are.
Shoes and hearts walking through the door and out onto the sidewalk or dirt road and then covering the ground with steps, leaps, strides, and plain old living.