My father would, on Saturday mornings,
go purposely on errands in his slippers,
which covered his feet entirely, so
you’d be likely to miss it, because
really they did look just like shoes,
but he knew the truth, as he traveled
from dry cleaners to supermarket
and then post office to mail the bills,
that's how long ago this was: that bills
got mailed with stamps and envelopes,
and wearing your slippers out on errands
was the surreptitious comfort of your week.
After “Those Summer Evenings” by Ted Kooser
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