Mommie's Big Shoes

I remember when I was a little girl, I would get on a chair to reach the high-heeled shoes in Mommie’s closet.

Wearing those sparkly, fancy, elegant stilletos made me feel big inside and tall and lovely outside.

Then I would put on her cocktail dress that I knew was meant for a queen.  I would toss my pressed and messed hair to the side, and imagine I walked the runway like the Simplicity models on the sewing packages.

I recall the days like yesterday.  

Looking in her full-length mirror, holding a fake cigarette, while blowing smoke so sexily out of the corner of my mouth,

I was being my Mommie.

Then I learned to teach because she brought me teacher books and papers to grade, and I had a class full of naughty kids in my bedroom everyday.

With the whistle around my neck, gradebook in my hand, and chalk dust all over the room,

I was being my Mommie.

I wore the big shoes that only a great teacher wears

I clicked the heels of the big shoes that only a Mommie wears

I tied the laces of the big shoes that were simply my little baby-shoes, but I called them my GoGo boots

Today, as I realize that my GoGo boots don’t fit,

The high-heels she wore will never be worn by me,

And the teacher shoes are out of style,

I guess the only shoes left for me are my own,

The ones she taught me to walk in proudly

Because I will never be able to fill my Mommie’s big shoes.

Spur of the Moment Poetry by JoyEleven 1-17-11