In the dark, he puts his slippers
on the wrong feet; they walk away
and he never sees them again.
Sometimes he misses them,
wonders if they ever think about him,
if they pad around someone else’s kitchen
remembering his hardwood mornings,
his quiet carpeted bedroom nights.
All day long, no matter what he does
or how long it takes, he’s only doing it
to kill some time while he’s waiting,
hoping they’ll find their way home.
But it’s no use, no use. They’re gone,
lost forever in the great wide world, lost
somewhere in the vast asphalt universe,
no doubt someone else’s footslaves,
pacing strange floors at odd hours,
bending to foreign biddings.
He vows never to forget them,
promises himself to remember
their warm, welcoming comfort
but with each rerun sunrise
he can feel them slippering
further and further away.
dVerse Poets Pub
Open Link Night #296
~ Live Edition ~