My shoes
are a pair
of twins
that stand by my bed
in the dark.
When I sleep
they walk
up a wall,
down a hall,
across the ceiling.
Do
they open the window?
Do they open a door?
Do they run through the streets
silently?
quickly?
Do
they climb up a tree
to sway on a branch?
Does
a bird bring them grass
to make them a nest?
Do
they borrow some wings
to fly to my room?
Do they land by my bed
with leaves in their laces
waiting for morning
and my own two
feet?