Man on foot with bike shoes
Reminds me of a woman
In bright heels
Negotiating cobblestones.
I remember mother
Walking the plank
Down the hall,
Stilettos clicking toward
The master bedroom.
There were bills
Owed to the master,
Bills paid in flesh
After the curtains were drawn,
The AC fired up,
And the door locked.
The man with bike shoes
Wobbles a path
Strewn with white petals.
My mother wept
When the door swung open
And the AC quit blowing.
The aroma of baking bread
Drifts from the boulangerie.
The bike man wolfs a croissant.
Mothers stroller by
Discussing the weights
Of their babies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Photo taken @ Auckland International Airport, New Zealand. Kia Ora!