The Hard Shoe Poem by David Bayless

The hard shoe
A woman breaches the door of contentment and smiles with intent
Nothing to be found she leaves the pear beyond the bench where birds feed
How can a man feast upon an empty plate given by a maid with no feathered brush?
No dust collected; it is certain a true man conceives of that witch brings only nonsense
The hair of the rabbit sings in the wind of spiraling sensations
Leaves are gathered by a yellow tool from withered feet
How does the owl sing to badgers and how do crickets call?
A woven basket full of whales tears; a limp by an able bodied man
Birds swim in a lake of rabid shark; the pasture of beautiful seas shall man find emptiness
Substance a memory. How delightful are the utterances of silence; a word absent
Quantum, a stranger; the difference known. Heeded is the wardrobe of pleasance
The wise shall know between the killdeer and the pelican.