WEDNESDAY: Visitors to the ROM


This poem was the Runner Up in The Ontario Poetry Society’s Arborealis contest and will appear in print soon. Copyright is held by the author.


The woman, taller by five inches
a gift of her shoes

dressed her shapely legs
this morning in black tights
her torso in a light cotton dress
with tiny blue flowers,
ambiguous above the promise
of those dark stems.

She shrugged on a form fitted
beige jacket, short in the body
short in the sleeves,
almost childlike

but when he, suited
hair slicked fashionably back
arrived at their agreed time

it was the shoes he saw,
their promise
of someone unbalanced
vulnerable to toplling.

They amble carefully
not touching each other
searching Egyptian mummies.

  1. It seems to me that any woman who can walk the ROM in 5″ heels, shoulders back, pelvis thrust forward with each step echoing on hard floors pretty well has it mastered.

  2. This poem was fun for me because my husband and I, who lived on opposite sides of the GTA, agreed to meet at the ROM for one of our first dates. I wasn’t wearing high heels and his hair wasn’t slicked back. Still, the delight that we found in each other remains strong some 15 years later. Maybe it was my running shoes that did it.

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