My mother gave me a pair of her shoes
It was raining and cold outside on an April morning
And I had worn flip flops
“You never did check the weather..” she said, rummaging through her closet
She is not allowed to comment on my behaviors
Tittering to herself like she knew me at all anymore.
She doted on me that night like I was her only child
Which was ironic only in the cruelest sense.
They were leather bottomed and fine
A nice rugged pair of flats
There were two tears in the front of each shoe, the sole peeling back from the shell
‘they’re good shoes, leather too. Just glue them back and they’ll be just fine to wear on a day out”
I never planned on fixing them, but any shoes that would keep me from falling was just fine.
I wore them home
Splashed in the puddles of a torrential downpour like I was 7
And mucked them up quite well.
I took my train home, and slept silently with cold wet little feet
I dreamt of a mom who loved me all my life like she did tonight
A mom who would have taken my cold feet without a word
Rub them until they were warm
and put little fuzzy patterned socks over them.