A neighbor passed today
On his way to non-being.
A casual traveler
Basking once in the silky sun of existence.
Cells once nourished
Became his bete noir.
They consumed him in a gulp.
Not knowing him well
I, hardly a blip on a radar screen rife with blips.
He recognized my existence.
For a nanosecond, and I his.
We talked of boots,
Walking, y’all, cowboy boots,
Strutting boots engendering power.
Because he could strut no more,
The wheel chair held him in thrall,
He gifted his to me.
I did not strut in those, red, grey and pointy boots.
I tossed them to the bottom of my closet
Relegated to join mismatched socks and underwear.
Now that he is no more,
I sought them out.
A life memo.
I tested them.
Wrapped my feet in them.
Stood like the Colossus of Rhodes arms akimbo
And strutted across my bedroom.
Il Duce, chin stuck in the air sucking in life,
Sauntered to the mirror.
Agape, a mortal stared back.
My neighbor would have smiled.