Red shoes

The day I met her she

Had just had a spat with another patient

But she suddenly smiled at me and said,

“I really like your red shoes.”

 

The next time I saw her she

Turned in her wheelchair

And with a weak smile she

Reminded me that she loved my red shoes

 

The last time I saw her

She stared at the ceiling as she lay in her bed

But slowly turned her head to look at my feet

I wonder if she saw me smile as she

Told me that she liked my red shoes

And wonder if she knew I wore them just for her

 

As I read her name in the newspaper

Just a  few days ago

I knew I would never again wear my red shoes

Without thinking of her

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This entry was posted in Cancer, Grief, Remembrance, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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