As the wind whistles
through the remaining leaves of the trees
Her eyes gazed in with a yearning
The biting chills creep into her sleeves
Her cheeks' veins tinged with green and blue
Instantly, they lose their rosy hue
Coiling her toes underneath her ragged shoes
She felt safer as she pulls her legs tighter to her feeble body
Too early, even for the rooster's songs in the morning
Hurriedly, she rushes into the pavements
Stumbling empty trash bins in the snowy covered cement
And along the streets, she awaits for the gents
Not the ladies, for they are miffed just by her presence
In her pocket, her trusted friends
A shoe wax, a brush and a small towel
Far from the ladies cloak of vanity and jewels
She took her brush and greets them
Giving all her might in every stroke,
she mimics a healthy bloke
With her fragile arms she delighted and amused the folks
They gave her a penny
All the angels wishes she has plenty
All those shoes, although they are leather,
with the glint of the sun, they shine like feathers
But in her eyes, they glimmer like rainbows
She was lost in the colors
Suddenly, she was struck by a heavy blow
Awakened by her terror
In a dark veiled room,
with lustful eyes
Three men with merciless arms
She felt the cold cement on her back
and how these hands creep into her sack
They covered her mouth with a towel
Frantic tears flowed to her cheeks
As they stroke her hair with her shoe brush
She tasted the lump in her throat
She closed her eyes and swallowed her crushed soul
And only the winter wind hears,
the laments of these restless child
With a yearning
As it smothers the barren trees
of her lost dreams
-Shiny Shoes, Margaret Austin Go
