Fight your fear of poetry.

shoes

Pebble In My Shoe
By Elizabeth Cutright

Well, I guess you’ve now become,
a little pebble in my shoe.
So you’d think that every step I take,
would bring me images of you.

I admit, sometimes you surround me.
When it’s quiet, I might hear your voice.
But the pinch and the ache grow familiar,
so that remembering is a choice.

I wonder, should I remove my it?
Cease all memories of you?
But would my step grow unsteady;
my balance thrown off with no cue?

So I guess that I’ll keep my pebble –
leave it lodged there, gently prodding, in my shoe.
But I can’t guarantee that forever,
its sharp nudge will remind me of you.

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