A Step Ahead

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A STEP AHEAD


In flamingo footies she shuffles  

to my boots then steps


inside. They are mud-caked

from work, but she won't track


the dirt around the house—

they are too heavy and she knows


it. Instead she sits on the heels,

squatting like it's a stool 


made just for her. When our Lord

said let the children come, some didn’t. 


Out of earshot, maybe, or there

already, sitting, at home in their


parent’s shoes and delighting 

in things too big for them.


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