Front Steps

I love the scent of new shoes.

Memories pour over in waves,

The blind man’s bathtub.

I dream of boyish play, childish laughter,

Untouched innocence.

Shoelaces untied like

Fingers of the wind running through loose hair.

I dream of when we first met

On those steps.

Your eyes smile at me

From the past.

In my dream,

Cool concrete dissipates

And my feet are no longer bare.