To Walk in Her Shoes
They’re boots
A half-size too big
But they don’t slip off
All-weather and black
I imagine them taking me
to the wild places she loved
Did she wear them in D.C.
when we protested the war
or when she fed feral cats in the rain?
Broken-in but still useful
Dark and official
I never wanted black boots
or to walk so close
to the sharp edge of sun
going down
I walk faster than she does
She frets when I kill ants
that crawl near our plates
while we’re celebrating her birthday
Now I march an uncharted course
like a girl in the drill team
like I can’t be at ease
in this world
She follows the news
but is faint of heart
She finishes her poems
remembering their names
the flowers and lovers
the songbirds and cows
She gives away her belongings
A scene she painted on the coast of Maine
The sea is slapping
against a craggy rock cropping
I imagine her leaving
footprints on the shore
________________Colleen Redman / Poets United / Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
November 18th, 2018 12:31 pm
The way you describe how it feels walking in her boots make me think that there is a responsibility to fill in those shoes… A parting like this is a very slow process.
November 18th, 2018 1:18 pm
You made her come alive for me. I especially love her remembering the names of “the flowers and lovers / the songbirds and cows.” Then the ominous giving away of possessions. Love the boots a half-size too big, that still fit, and their history. Beautiful, Colleen. She sounds amazing.
November 18th, 2018 3:18 pm
I love the circular movement of this poem, Colleen, the way it starts with the boots a half-size too big that don’t slip off, with the imagination taking the speaker and the reader to so many different places and events, and ending by ‘leaving footprints on the shore’.
November 18th, 2018 3:20 pm
Love this especially; “She finishes her poems
remembering their names the flowers and lovers
the songbirds and cows.”?
November 18th, 2018 3:47 pm
I remember when my dad died and I saw his favorite flannel work shirt….I took it and wore it everywhere….I felt him around me and wrapped in him. I still have it and wear it in my garden. Your poem and those boots brought back memories of him…..
November 18th, 2018 7:28 pm
Just visited family this weekend and this poem reminds me of all the things that don’t quite get mentioned but hover…it’s both beautiful and visceral.
November 18th, 2018 9:58 pm
“They’re boots
A half-size too big
But they don’t slip off…”
And then, you go on to prove it! Awesome.
ZQ
November 18th, 2018 10:22 pm
Love how you divided it up and made the second part… and especially struck by “or to walk so close
to the sharp edge of sun”
November 18th, 2018 10:31 pm
I think it is hard to fill someone else’s boots, even though we try at times.
I felt a sadness in the end imaging her footprints – the last steps in a journey.
November 18th, 2018 10:49 pm
Wow! This is such a gripping verse, from its beginning hook to its ending — the way you have crafted and created the personality in these anecdotes and pictures is plain wonderful. And the kind of emotions it thereby evokes are tender and a tribute to all the journeys made — this poem is indeed like walking in her shoes.
November 19th, 2018 7:39 am
I like the way you don’t quite spell everything out, but it is there to find anyway.
A beautiful story, and person – and such a mixture, as people and stories are.
I love the way you’ve written it.
November 20th, 2018 4:01 am
Love this. It’s easy to judge people but we can’t unless we have walked in their shoes
November 20th, 2018 1:25 pm
This is an amazing piece of writing. What a feeling I had as I read this. Strangely my favorite line is :I never wanted black boots” that resonates with the heart of the poem I think. This is one to be proud of for sure. Thanks for sharing!
November 20th, 2018 3:09 pm
Salute, CR! My hat’s off.
November 20th, 2018 5:39 pm
This poem is incredible. The long goodbye is always so sad. I like this owner of the boots. I wish I had known her.
November 20th, 2018 5:44 pm
She’s very special! Here is a post about her 90th birthday and more about her. http://looseleafnotes.com/2016/11/alwyn-is-90/
November 20th, 2018 9:40 pm
This is quite beautiful where you have her still close to you in her boots. Isn’t it wonderful when people you meet inspire you to be a little bit like them too!
November 20th, 2018 10:52 pm
What a neat way to ser recall into motion. I enjoyed reading of her travels, I was seeing your mom. It also reminded me of my Hush Puppies that I wore on our three week Holy Land trip. I never wore them again, they are still on the top shelf in the closet. I try to count the number of times they crossed Jesus walks. You could make a nice poem of this but I doubt that I could.
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