Dad's Shoes
by Christopher Cloos

As I sat in a business meeting
looking down at my black dress shoes
I realized that I liked to stare at them
because they reminded me of my dad's:
how he would spit in a rag to give his a shine,
how his soles were cracked from selling cars
and how his thin dress socks would smell,
after a long day, when I would take them off
and massage his callused feet. But I never knew
that I would never see him alive again
when I left him lying on the burgundy
leather couch at my grandma's house;
that I would never be able
to tell him how I shined my shoes
without polish as well.




I was born in South Lake Tahoe, California, on September 14, 1975. I received a BA in Philosophy at California Polytechnic State University, San Luis Obispo, in 1999. Currently, I'm working as a technical writer for the satellite TV provider DISH Network.


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