Tired from my long journey.
I saw a man, dirty and tangled
asleep on a bench.
He had worlds written
on his Ageless face.
I wondered where the tan came from,
Where the scar across the base of his Frown originated,
and how long it had been since he had a home.
the World, I guess, was his home now.
the Sky his ceiling, the Stars and Moon his light.
the Sun his alarm clock,
and the Ocean his bathtub.
I looked at the tennis sneakers
that protected his feet.
his big toe was starting to poke through the canvas.
the shoes were green once,
although it was hard to tell.
I gently removed the shoes,
allowing him to continue sleeping.
I placed them on my own tired feet,
Allowing them to feel the awkward spaciousness
of another man's shoes.
I walked out of the station,
Down the road and across the highway.
I walked for hours, days, months.
I walked miles upon miles in this strange man's shoes.
Soon my feet adjusted to the grooves his had left behind.
I had intended to walk only a mile,
to walk a mile and then return the foreign shoes.
Yet his life captivated me.
Anonymity and Scorn,
Distaste and Pity
were all left at my feet,
Christmas presents all year round.
I enjoyed the man's shoes, his way of life.
so refreshingly different from my own.
my own had started to fade in my head
as the days whirled together into a puree of moments.
I didn't know the month and delighted in that I didn't care.
I started to sleep one night,
Lulled by the ocean,
and realized I was at total peace.
I had forgotten the meaning of the word.
and when I opened my eyes,
I was staring at the sleeping man.
I had never moved.
