his boots on top of a shoe box
holding wooden clothespins
back when we had no dryer
his boots in the mud room
waiting for me to remember
when he last wore them
all I can recall is
he died with no shoes or socks
just a thin white sheet
with red and blue stars
last month I moved his boots
years of dust, empty except
for plastic milk rings
dropped in by sad cats
his boots now upside down
on top of clothes to donate
in a large black bag
on the front porch waiting