Empty Tennis Shoes
By Sarah Fechter
Scuffed and worn, size ten tennis shoes
rest like used potter's molds
beside the den sofa where he'd
shed them before lifting
long, strong legs off the floor.
Coming home past midnight,
he watches late-night TV
with his sleek, black cat
purring softly on his chest.
In the morning I find him there,
a man's body curled up
like the little boy
I'd so often gently kissed
while straightening rumpled blankets.
As I stand in the doorway,
I long to touch him, knowing
that soon he will pack
his tennis shoes, take his cat,
and leave me for a younger woman. |
 |
Sarah P. Fechter grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, and graduated, cum laude, from Maryville College in Tennessee. She also holds degrees from the University of Montevallo and University of Alabama in Birmingham. Since retiring from teaching, she has devoted much of her time to volunteering at a local food bank. She is a member of and has won numerous awards for her poetry from the Alabama State Poetry Society and The Birmingham Quill Club. Her poetry has been published in several educational and religious journals. She and her husband live in Trussville, Alabama, and have four grown children and five grandchildren.
|
