i’ve put on my mother’s shoes
& walked on city streets
crossed asphalt & cobblestone gutters
climbed various staircases
to subways schools jobs
apartments
sometimes took elevators
when available
i felt the leather tighten
heard soles sigh
pain rose up vascular roadways—
a headache signaled to action
her past
a telepathic rerun—
i already knew how it would end
emotions created her whorls & lines
& no two fingerprints were alike
unanswered questions
stepped on anger & grief —
wondered why I still shrink
in my own shoes