By Kathleen Holliday

Despite blistered heels
in new shoes,
I can’t seem to leave this gallery
of sarcophagi.

I limp closer to a glass case
where displayed en pointe
a pair of tiny sandals lies
pristine, and I wonder—
never worn?

Parting the stream of visitors
two statues rise monolithic
a man and woman, side by side
each an arm circling the other’s waist.

Look at them, still standing
never turning back.

Look, I’d say, if you were here
how they’ve outlasted us.

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Kathleen Holliday lives on an island in the Salish Sea. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The Bellingham Review, The Blue Nib Literary Magazine, Cathexis Northwest Press, New Ohio Review, Nimrod International Journal, Poet Lore, Poetry Super Highway, SHARK REEF, The Write Launch and other journals. She is a graduate of Augsburg University, Minneapolis, MN. Her chapbook, Putting My Ash on the Line, was published by Finishing Line Press, November 2020.