I'm wearing my red shoes today
On the last sunday of May.
Jumping in the puddles,
wetting my socks.
The neighbors stare at me,
hoping that their kids won't ape.

Sixteen years, six thousand days
I've wasted a quarter of my life here
Might run away someday, I fear.

So please,
Save me a seat every table you go.
Let all our feelings overflow.
We need hands to hold
And hearts to love.

Now, my red shoes are all muddy
Reminds me of your umber eyes
The neighbor kids are aping,
And the parents sigh.

You would be giggling
If you were here.
And I would whisper
something into your ear.

I took my red shoes off
Walking home, take my bag
Running away
To you.

(Photo: Willow bader art)