Author Steven Seymour Those who are asleep in the earth have an avian sense of the way. Gone, they sleep with shoes on, ready to rise and go to the pink, dispensable, barefooted insomniacs who had laced up for them the last pair of shoes. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments