Shoe Drop

Sometimes you’re out and about

and you see a shoe

–a single shoe, just lying there

and you gotta wonder. . .

how do you lose one shoe?

(is it a leftie or a rightie?)

Is the world full of Cinderellas running late?

In the case of the errant flip-flop on beach trails

it’s a Sanderella souvenir

(or Sunderella)

a one-off

mermaid-with-shore-leave’s

shoe

lost as she rushed to return to the briny depths before 12 bells

–sun-bleached beach attire strewn behind her–

–dune buggy just a shell of its time-sensitive chassis—

but what about the Converse sneaker?

(not those laced & paired over hi-voltage wires above)

but the singleton

. . .

what’s the story there?

Is that a Shirts and Skin-derella story?

a ballplayer just dying for a pick-up game?

who shoots, scores, unlaces, and bolts before the buzzer?

. . .

seems unlikely.

. . .

but then, losing one shoe seems something hard to miss, too.

Then there’s the work boot you sometimes see,

Clearly a “Done-derella” story

as in:

that clock couldn’t chime 5 quick enough

a classic “take-your-job-and-your-mandatory-attire”

and hit the bricks tale

–shredded blue collar cut from

the neck

it squeezed

surely somewhere in the vicinity—

I’m just sayin’. . .

you never see a glass stiletto just

lying there as you’re toolin’ around town

–not unless you live in Vegas.