BLUE JEANS

You laughed. then left for a walk

across the countryside through

the rough bark of trees and the jagged

edges of rocks strung out along the bed

of a brook. You probably picked

smooth stones to spin over the top

of some wide pools and smiled a

at how many bounces you got.

Little minnows and gray crayfish

skittered out of your way when you

took off your boots to wade through

the mud and leaves.

I wonder what that yellow-eyed owl

perched low in a nearby persimmon

thought about all that.

Later, at the table in the kitchen, I

noticed your hair was wet but your

clothes were not. I watched the

sliced tomatoes slide between your

lips with your eyes closed. As I bent

to refresh your tea I lingered to catch

the scent of creekwater.

When you sat on the edge of the bed to

peel your jeans down to your ankles then

pointed your feet at me to do the rest,

I lingered once again,

but not for long.

Copyright

Vol Lindsey

7/08/2008

Reviews

[Lorry]

Ahh, even when they aren't there, we wonder, don't we?
The more we think of them, the more we realise how much space they take up in our Dail (and nightly) thoughts.
I doubt many women give us the same thought though. They are way too busy putting the world to rights and making decisions us mere men couldn't comprehend. But I'm just thankful they smile at us and put up with our mannish Ness enough to let us play with them occasionally 😊
You gotta love them... They insist on it! 😊

[Vol]

To tell the truth, Lorry, I will always believe love is not as much a fickle thing, as a doomed thing... The chances of finding the perfect someone are miniscule, I did, once... now I'm old...

[Lorry]

At least you found it. Some never do.

[Kelly Scheppers]

The sensuality of this is so exciting to read. The sliced tomato did it for me. What an image! How beautiful an observation! Of course the combustion went into overdrive when when she sat on the edge of the bed. This is what good poetry should be, leaving us with a sigh!

[Ladysue]

Your poem paints a vivid scene. wonderful images and great storytelling.

[Vol]

Thank you!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

In line 7 did you mean to have "a" at the end of that line?
Well...the jeans...reminds me of the bells I used to wear in the late sixties and early seventies.
Loved those elephant bells...this poem gave me the scent of my college days, fishing on the campus lake at two in the morning...never sleeping, who needed that?
Yes, we pulled off the jeans....we loved...but most times love did not stay for long, did it?
nostalgic piece...
j.

[Vol]

Thanks about the "a"... got that fixed... Funny, the poem did not come from the days when weed was pot, and bell bottoms (I still have a pair I've got to lose a lot of weight to wear) It sounds like we are of a similar age and share some of what that means... Sex, drugs and rok-n-roll... I was living in Pensacola, Florida back when sex-on-the-beach wasn't just a fancy drink.

[FGFRANKLIN]

This was country chic. The descriptions were lovely, natural and sensual. I love my old jeans, my old cowboy boots and my old hat. I have a few favorite walking sticks I've carved over the years too; I've given so many away to friends and family. So I completely relate to the country stroll and the critters along the way. I saw the fattest groundhog here just last week and today, a red-headed woodpecker at my feeder. I told my little girl it was Woody and she chuckled out the cartoon character's song. Hoping your Spring and Easter days ahead are filled with all the beauty the season has to offer, F.

[Vol]

You hit it! All of it made of images spread out over memories of cabins, girls, and creeks... laughing out loud in the woods, or walking quietly looking for wildlife... good times.

[Chris Shaw]

Some fine descriptive writing here Vol, which led to an interesting finale. If this is a memory, it sounds like one you would want to resurrect often. Love the references to the natural environment.

Chris

[Vol]

In my life, I've spent many more years living out of town than in some crowded subdivision... The woods are what I miss most about living here on the Llano Estacado semi-deseert.