The Lonely Shoe Lying on the Road
All the Poems of Muriel Spark) --One sad shoe that someone has probably flung
out of a car or truck. Why only one?
This happens on an average one year
in four. But always throughout my 
life, my travels, I see it like 
a memorandum. Something I have 
forgotten to remember,
            that there are always 
mysteries in life. That shoes
do not always go in pairs, any more
than we do. That one fits;
the other, not. That children can 
thoughtlessly and in a merry fashion
chuck out someone's shoe, split up
someone's life.
            But usually that shoe that I 
see is a man's, old, worn, the sole
parted from the upper.
Then why did the owner keep the other,
keep it to himself? Was he
afraid (as I so often am with 
inanimate objects) to hurt it's feelings?
That one shoe in the road invokes 
my awe and my sad pity. 
 
 
