Tip Jar

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

Empty Shoes

A pair of shoes


Toe atop toe they stand,
dropped there by a busy hand.

They bask in the rays of the sun,
that the glass door has beckoned on.

The light join hands with the surround sounds,
of birds and bees and hungry hounds.

All life flows through the glass door,
irradiating the shodden wooden floor

With life's fine laces.

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