I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
so shiny as to be reflective of my soul
as I stared at them from the floor
of the church, laying between pews
memsmerised by hymns of god's glory
and shiny black shoes


I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
with the crack across the sole
as she put them on to walk the mile
to work, caring for other peoples
sick children

I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
as an adult I sat across from her
dozing form and stared at her feet
malformed by hours of standing
in heeled shoes in operating theatres

I remember, the year we got new shoes
and she had her's patched and repatched
I remember the sighs of relief
as she took off her shoes after a long day
and placed those weary feet into sheepskin slippers,  
bought yearly at the mother's day sales..


I remember these sacrifices
and more as  I help the old lady,
who is my mother with crooked back
and shuffling legs from chair to table
and back again..

I remember with gratitude
the quiet fierceness of her love
I remember my mother's
black patent leather court shoes
and all that they represent...