i owned a pair of sneakers
inside which i hiked all around
the Australian outback.
i don’t remember if i bought them white on purpose
or not
but they eventually became shaded
rust
from the red dirt
of the outback

and my friends and i laughed
at the customs forms
asking if we were bringing back
any flora/fauna/soil,
because that red dust was embedded
into every article of clothing
and down to our very souls
by that point.

it eventually washed out of fabric,
but every time i wore those shoes
the red just seemed to embed itself
deeper

and my style changed
as the years went by,
and i didn’t wear anything on my feet
except my [off-brand] converse low-tops,
and later my vegan leather boots,
but i vowed to keep those formerly white tennis shoes
so i could always have the reminder of
how i felt in the outback.

i have no idea where those sneakers are today.
they might still be in my childhood closet,
sitting there, keeping my dad company
(solely by proximity),
or we might have packed them in a plastic bag,
and dropped them off at a Goodwill,
and someone might have gotten them,
and the shoes might be walking around right now,
or they might have already been tossed out…

and i think about how many times i looked at those shoes,
contemplating giving them up,
and i thought the point of the memories
was to keep the physical reminder of them
but i think
that if you have the memories strong enough
the reminders
aren’t always completely necessary…

…maybe?