The Truth About Tigers

The shoes lay by the bed,
kicked off, carelessly askew—
a task postponed for tomorrow,
at the end of another day.

The left one had tipped over,
its partner still upright,
toes turned toward its mate,
as if in quiet reproach.

Had he known visitors would come,
would see sorrow in their disorder,
he might have placed them neatly away,
lined up with the others in the closet.

Yet for days, they remained,
untouched by the bed’s edge—
abandoned by a man with grand plans,
never knowing this night’s sleep
would be his last.