She left her new shoes
by the trailhead
atop caked mud,
immaculate burgundy pumps
standing upright
near the base of a pin oak.
Just past the restroom breezeway,
the anonymous message in wobbly
cursive was etched
with jagged glass
or blunt rock,
officials suspected.
A girl on a nearby
swing spoke with playmates
during the investigation,
gripping the chains
and pumping her bare legs
while leaning back
to attain altitude,
her feet stretching skyward,
her body awash in sunlight
and silhouettes.
I really like the mysterious side to this, it feels a little like a prelude to a scene from some film noir, there’s something which seems positively chilling about the concluding stanza, especially set against the imagery of the second one.
I enjoyed reading this.
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wow, thank you. I appreciate it. I agree with you. I also really love the ambiguity of the fate of the woman who owned the shoes. It’s interesting how the poem pretty much wrote itself. Thanks again for the feedback!
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