Shouting Out to @aschoenborn for #VerseLove 2022, Prompt 13. Who Could of Guessed so Much Poetry Might Come of Shoes Stories. Loved this Prompt

Andy Schoenborn prompted the #VerseLove writers to free verse on shoes for a while, then pull out a poem from the verse -- see where the story takes ya. Truth, the Twins have always called Edem "Wait a Minute" in reference to the pronunciation of his surname. True story, too, before Chitunga moved to Stamford, he had a beef with the shoes on Mt. Pleasant. They really were everywhere, especially because I don't like to get rid of sneakers...each pair tells a story (and yes, I still have them from high school). So when I went to mow the lawn for the first time this week, my usual stack of oldies weren't there. I donated them at a clothing drive at Stratford High School, and was proud to text Chitunga, "I finally did it. I got rid of all the sneakers." Alas! I had nothing to wear to mow, so I slipped on a pair of Edem's sneakers (which he somehow turns into slippers because of the way he wears them. 

Edem's also in Togo for the month....first time he's returned. I don't know French, but whenever he is communicating with a sister (in Germany) or his brother (Syracuse) I hear him speaking French.

Wait a Minute

b.r.crandall

Yesterday I mowed in borrowed kicks,
a beat-up pair of And1’s slopped into slippers and left atop his shoe castle in the garage.

They’re green now, stained like cow-cud, pigmented with chlorophyll, and
striped like Togo’s national flag.

Je n'y suis pas retourné depuis 2003
Je n'étais alors qu'un enfant
marcher pieds nus dans des camps de réfugiés au Ghana.

 I’ll confess this when he returns,

admit I bagged my own shoelace mountain a month ago,

to support a high school music program,

“Paid by the pound,” they told me.

“Well, that’s 10 years of pounding pavement right there”

        It’s never easy to let them go…

        they carried the weight of the world upon them, 

        so many stories…too many histories to forget.

And now I await Amazon for another delivery, knowing I will hit the road once again,
blue axons for neurotic trails.

Je ne parle pas français, gamin.
Mais je pense à toi et à ces pas de géant que tu fais.

***

(Pardon my French)
‘I haven’t been back since 2003
when I was just a child,
walking barefoot to refugee camps in Ghana.

But I’m thinking of you
and the giant steps you’re taking