Views and Mechanics Publisher's Note Editor's Note Review of Paint It Black Review of The i Tetralogy Poetry Zoology By Patricia Murphy Framed Gift By Sheila McLaughlin Sikorski Friends 'n' 'at or Ode to Pittsburghatory By Betta Risa In My Father's Shoes By Richard Fein Freedom By Skip Shea Fiction Quitting Time By Barbara Archer Tumbleweed By Thom Brennan Maternal Instincts By Diane Kimbrell You Should Write People Dead By T. M. Warfield Spring Fling By Patricia Murphy About the Contributors © 2007, River Walk Journal and respective authors and artists. All rights reserved. Do not use or reproduce without permission. River Walk Journal, Inc. Board of Directors Chairman - Elizabeth Ross Vice Chairman - Joseph Koch Secretary/Treasurer - Geri Stock-Ross Editorial Director - Patti Kurtz, DA Literacy Director - Vacant Policy Director - PA State Rep. Jess Stairs Advisory Board Chairman - Patti Kurtz, DA Asst. Chairman - Dan Lachenman, PhD Samuel Hazo Christopher Leland Edwin Yoder Joseph Bathanti Journal Staff Publisher - Elizabeth Ross Editor-In-Chief - Joseph Koch Sen. Fiction Editor - Patti Kurtz Sen. Poetry Editor - Neeldhara Misra Sen. Creative Nonfiction Editor - Brenda Coxe Copyeditor - Kathy Skaggs Contributing Editor - Robert Dittman Blog Contributing Editor - Maggie Koster Publicity Director (PA) - Geri Stock-Ross For information about submissions, visit http://www.riverwalkjournal.org/subs.html. Questions about promotions, subscribers' services, and advertising should be sent to publisher@riverwalkjournal.org. River Walk Journal, Inc. is a non-profit corporation run entirely by volunteers. For information about volunteer opportunities and internships, visit VolunteerMatch. |
In My Father's Shoes By Richard Fein Now I know how the pair separates from time to time, my left shoe from my right. He wobbles across the room there in the morning light. I keep my eyes closed and pretend to snore. He's five and so was I when I'd sneak into my dad's closet and walk in my father's shoes. He would be snoring, I remember. But much too loudly, as I do now. And now my son takes off my shoes and runs barefoot out the bedroom. He leaves a distance between my left and right. I also left a distance between my father's shoes. And later this morning I'll say to my son my shoes had a fight and walked away on their own Then I'll close the distance between them as my father did long ago. And once again a son will giggle guiltily as a father smiles warmly. |