My father brought me a pair of brown wingtip shoes
for my first day of junior high school
and since it was one of the first times I had
shoes that cost more then $1.99
I was so excited that I walked
on the school playground
with them on
just to show everyone

but the only one
who noticed them
was Pete V.
who commented
“where did you get those shoes from? ”
and before I had a chance to answer
the bell rang and I headed to class
with books in my hand and an
embarrassed looked hang from my face

so for the next two months
I would walk out of the small house
on Hartman Court,
where our family of twelve children lived
and stop on the bottom step of our front porch
reach along the bottom of the creaking stairs
and grab a pair of ragged tennis shoes
from the year before
put them on
and gently place
the brown wingtips
in their resting place

when I got home
from the cold and the snow
my tennis shoes were drenched
I would put on the brown wingtips
after creeping on the stairs
and walk inside
as if nothing was wrong…

one day
arriving home after
junior high school wrestling practice
my father said
“see, a good pair of shoes lasts a long time”