Losing the Shoes 

They finally objected 
to being objectified  
and so they flung them 
far and wide and ran 
for a land far, far away – 

a Wood where they could 
laugh and dance and play 
without bunions and balls
and midnight calls and step
-mothers and -sisters and 

overbearing fathers and 
suitors of the unkind kind. 
Then they bared their souls
and their toes 
and let down their hair   
and left those heels behind.  


In November, we poem.

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7 Responses to Losing the Shoes 

  1. erbiage says:

    How can you feel the earth with these darn shoes?! Yucko!

  2. Shawna says:

    What kinds of flowers are they dancing in? I am a swoon-goon for a soft and tender, mystical meadow.

  3. lifelessons says:

    Heels of all varieties, I see.

  4. Pingback: eye of new(t)  | Whimsygizmo's Blog

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