Coming From The Sea Poem by James McLain

I still have that shoe of yours
in my closet, full of sand.
I smile and let her go, my other hand.
She still has.
Yours, is in it too.
I've have carried it with me
since we were young
and once in school.
Do you see it now?
She takes it
and rubs her finger over the same spot.
I didn't ever do that!
I couldn't have.
I shouldn't have.
I wouldn't Have.
What have you?
It was latter after dark
when I was walking through the back yard
it filled with leaves
and my horse you said it ran, with you away.
You never had a horse, she says, I am walking.