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DISCARDED SHOES OF A CRIPPLENo one will ever see you here Upon this closet shelf—So far away from prying eyes—I hid you here myself.Your heavy soles are caked with mud,Your strings are rotten, too,And here and there twixt toe and topAn eyelet’s broken through.Discard you—no—I never shall,For some day, in a rain .Of silver mist, I'll put you on,And dreaming, walk again.—Alice Whitson Norton.
Newspaper Details
Melbourne Advocate
Melbourne, Victoria, AU
Thu, Apr 18, 1940
Page 6
Full Page
Clipped by
Stephen G.
TN, USA 20 Dec 2021
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