}} Right Shoe |

Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Right Shoe

A stroke of white, it takes its first stride.
It will not let go. It will keep us walking.

It does not wait for the other, the left pair
still stuck in a far-off trail. It treads on

grass, earth, sand, water, pavement.
It will keep us walking.

A bloated conqueror.
A rogue dreamer.

            excerpted From A Roomful of Machines