It’s the shoes I remember the most
Tawny brown loafers, shiny
A prize possession for a guy with size-15 feet,
Loafers don’t stay on feet like that, not easily.
The shoes a gift from a friend.
Too big for him, he said.
You try them.
Imagine a life of tie-shoes
and all the other guys,
wearing loafers, shuffling.
Every day, tie shoes.
Then the gift. Shiny brown loafers
He put those shoes on,
No double knots, no ties on these feet.
Maybe that’s why I remember the shoes
Standing on the curb
as I drove up,
Still on the feet, later,
though he was prone.