Under a shadow
and the rooster’s crow,
we used to tread
and carry, to thread
our path through morning dew
(we shoes too were once bright and new
in that whispering light).
The things you had right,
I’ve always had left –
and so we crept,
swaying and kicking like twins,
until we wore our soles thin
with all our familiar opposites.
Hope you still remember it -
that time before we were old
and thrown away into the cold.
You know, I still do.
And I still hope to find you
with wears and tears that wrinkle into smiles.
And amongst memories of the miles
that once weighed upon us as much as our human -
I really wish to carry someone with you again.
Imagine walking, just walking, together and all,
one shoe after the other.
