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
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.