Elegy for the Best Pair of Black Flats Ever
I don’t think anyone thought you would last as long as you did.
I don’t remember how much my mom paid for you
Or when I got you, or where.
(I think it was 5 years ago,
at Off Broadway or DSW
so I’m sure my hopes weren’t high.)
But since then
You’ve been everywhere I have been
London
Chicago
New York
You were with me in Washington D.C.
on that amazing weekend in January
(I remember because my feet were cold).
We’ve covered so much ground together
You and I
That one day I looked down
And I had walked a hole right through you.
I’m a little ashamed to say I kept wearing you for months even after that
Because as hard as I looked for a replacement pair of black ballet flats
Not patent, but not too matte either
No heel, no buckles, no bows
And just the right amount of toe coverage
I was really just looking for another you
And you are one of a kind
(Not that I didn’t try to track down a clone of you
But my walking wore away your brand name years ago).
When I couldn’t put it off anymore,
I settled for the least offensive replacement pair
I tried them on
I put them in your old spot on the shelf
And I threw you away.
(I threw some old moldy bread on top of you so I couldn’t change my mind and dig you out again.)
And maybe it’s weird that I’m writing a poem for my worn-out old shoes
But I just wanted you to know
That although there will be many more pairs of black flats in my future
You will always be my favorite.
