O green alligator shoe. What story your sole must wear.

For 40 days and 40 nights

you have rested in the narrow strip of concrete, trees and dirt between Clark and White Station towers.

Where is your mate? Where is the man who's left foot once used you for steppin' out? How many people have walked by, wondering? How many cars have gone past, oblivious to your mute testimony?

You are: alone, silent, caked in mud, holding this day an inch
of rain water, obviously well made, grounded, and very, very green.