i like the sound of my new heels
going clok clok against the wooden floor
it tells me that i am
twenty, not four
not waiting, at dinnertime, by the front door
for the clok clok of my mother's heels
coming home from work
coming down the corridor
going clok clok against the wooden floor
it tells me that i am
twenty, not four
not waiting, at dinnertime, by the front door
for the clok clok of my mother's heels
coming home from work
coming down the corridor
By Debbie Yong
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