As April trees began to sprout forth greenery
and delicate pink blossoms briefly adornedÂ
the early spring landscape
I found a pair of dress shoes I had long forgotten
caked with mud
hidden away in the back of my closet
Â
Carefully, I washed the soft leather
watching clumps of soil, hesitant to let go
slip down the drain
suddenly reminded of a cold November day
with few leaves still clinging to the treesÂ
in a final attempt
to hold onto what must surely wither and die
Â
Remembering how the heelsÂ
became dirtied in the first place
I allowed a bit to remainÂ
on the bottom of the left shoe
where no one else could see it
Â
A last tangible reminderÂ
of the muddy groundÂ
where years ago
we buried my father
