The Song Of Father's Shoes

A poor boy’s song

sings from my father’s shoes

in strains of hunger and rock soil.

The lyrics of a church hymn

play across scuffed leather

where a young boy stood tall

to reach Jesus in harmony

with his mother’s voice.

Tightly tied shoe laces try

to fill the gap between moving on

and the pain of a motherless child

watching six feet of dirt separate

him from the warmth of gentle arms.

My father’s shoes are an empty nest

where secrets roost and tears never dry.

I talk to the ghosts, who linger there,

but silence eats each bread crumb I drop

until unanswered questions erase footprints

that will never lead me home.

©Susie Clevenger 2016

Real Toads ~ Bits Of Inspiration ~ Shoes