For Another, or Both

Here is one half the pair of my father's lost shoe.
Now there is one where first there were two.
No, before the lie is set, let it be said in tone
that first there was one, but now, the second, alone.
What rambled through cornfield and was lost on the way
has come back, and instead of gone, becomes the way;
for there is nothing to be said for the foot
that but now placed first, was first second put.
That shoe, so gone in proudest eternity, there on a shelf,
becomes the reminder that though through it comes, is not of the self.