bowling shoes

you remember the soft
shoes, the bowling shoes
at the alley
across the highway,
rented for an hour or two
while you rolled balls
down the hardwood floor
to knock down the wooden
pins. you liked
the numbers on the back
and the smell of them,
powdered and sprayed
of lilac and lavender.
two toned, grey and blue.
they were nicer than any
shoes you had owned
up to that point in your
young life and here they
were, hundreds of them
lined on the shelves.
all the sizes of the world,
including yours.