Cinderella, aging

Let's watch together,
you and I
as all my inner children
cart their childhood baggage
through my dreams,
off, and away.
And that glass slipper
I've been holding onto
-- which of course no longer fits,
and just sits
on the mantel;
one more memory to dust --
isn't it time I gave that remnant to Goodwill?
I'll resist the urge to hurl it against the wall --
how ironic, if it were to shatter,
and a shard were to imbed itself
in my foot, and get infected;
were to inflame my sole
as the shoe itself,
with all its promises
once inflamed my heart...


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