I
saw her for but a split second,
driving down Canal toward home,
off to the left, next to me, behind me,
almost over my shoulder.
Something
didn’t fit,
caught my eye,
even in peripheral vision,
made me look again, shake my head,
try to make sense of the look,
the affect she was going for;
Strange.
No,
there was something wrong,
out of step, disjointed,
something that caught me,
in that slack space,
making me pause, close to home,
breaking me from the auto-pilot.
It
was the shoes, her shoes.
Her
top was pink, nothing special,
she worn grey flare jersey pants,
anything but Capri,
scalloped and stitched at the bottom,
in the old days, they would have been called sweats,
that made sense, just a block down from Curves.
But
they weren’t matched to the top,
They were matched, paired,
to her pink strap slides;
They were the thing that didn’t fit,
made me look again,
far too formal.
They
may not have had spiked heels; but they were,
shoes she would have worn out to cocktails last night,
the bars on Elm Street, or darker ones, closer to the water,
shoes for the club scene, not a stroll down on Canal…
Incongruous
on the sidewalk,
in the middle of the day,
in the sunlight, harsh, revealing,
visible for a moment,
as she strutted down, purposefully,
heading toward the bridge.
-----
Edited January 26, 2024
Pink slides – v3
Edited
November 5, 2012
Pink Slides – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/pink-slides-v2.html
June 24, 2006 20:24
Pink Slides
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2006/06/pink-slides.html
And no, I have no idea what she looked like.
All of my poems, photographs, and videos are copyrighted by
Raymond A. Foss, 1999, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008,
2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021,
2022, 2023, and 2024. All rights are reserved. Contact me at Ray Foss (raymondafoss@gmail.com) for usage. See all 53,000+ of my poems at www.raymondafoss.blogspot.com
Poetry Where You Live.
America,
colors, shoes, Driving, eyes, faith poetry, Family, God, home, June, light,
Manchester NH, New Hampshire, pink, poem, poetry, Poetry Where You Live, senses,
Writing Poetry
#shoes
#America #colors #Driving #eyes #Family #God #light #ManchesterNH #NH #pink
#poem #poetry #senses #Writing
driving down Canal toward home,
off to the left, next to me, behind me,
almost over my shoulder.
caught my eye,
even in peripheral vision,
made me look again, shake my head,
try to make sense of the look,
the affect she was going for;
Strange.
out of step, disjointed,
something that caught me,
in that slack space,
making me pause, close to home,
breaking me from the auto-pilot.
she worn grey flare jersey pants,
anything but Capri,
scalloped and stitched at the bottom,
in the old days, they would have been called sweats,
that made sense, just a block down from Curves.
They were matched, paired,
to her pink strap slides;
They were the thing that didn’t fit,
made me look again,
far too formal.
shoes she would have worn out to cocktails last night,
the bars on Elm Street, or darker ones, closer to the water,
shoes for the club scene, not a stroll down on Canal…
in the middle of the day,
in the sunlight, harsh, revealing,
visible for a moment,
as she strutted down, purposefully,
heading toward the bridge.
Edited January 26, 2024
Pink slides – v3
Pink Slides – v2
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2012/11/pink-slides-v2.html
Pink Slides
https://raymondafoss.blogspot.com/2006/06/pink-slides.html
And no, I have no idea what she looked like.
No comments:
Post a Comment