written by Sarah Chalkie Cloonan.
Shoes tell our story; they are our secret weapon- we three sisters, love, learn, laugh, dancing as Papa wished.
Daughters, mothers, aunts, weavers, menders; family, we wait, shoe like on a rack hoping to be worn like Bourgeois thoughts, Hogarth bonnets, or Cobertts paint with Gustoanian.
Legs waggling a pair of shoes upon our toes.