I wrote this several years ago about the rare organism that erupts from this metamorphosis already in full splendor. After all the first-time flip flops I saw yesterday, this thought helps.
Footing
 |
| Black ice hates your tailbone and wants to hurt it |
The
only way to successfully walk on ice
is
to have the confidence you will not fall.
I’ve
seen it.
I’ve
seen the double-takes
follow
her in instinctual waves.
She
catches every eye twice.
At
least.
Cold
March froze its own rain,
the
sidewalks are treacherous,
but
she is grace in polar fleece.
Sex
in mittens.
Everyone
else
sacrificed
gender to scarves and ski jackets,
discarded
male and female in the snow bank.
She
found it all,
and
although we may be warm in our down
her
winter wear radiates heat that permeates
everyone’s
Gore-tex shells.
I
watch her step, step
confident
of her footing
glance
down, glance out
caring,
but not looking like she cares
knowing
she looks good, but not looking like
she
knows she looks good.
I
think of my morning.
Six minute shower, two minute toothpaste,
Thirty second hair gel,
her
cheek alone must have taken an hour and a half
her
calf would have needed at least two months
and
I assume she spent about three years on that wrist.
I
got up at 7:30.
She
must have gotten up in 1992.
 |
| High Heel Challenge Level 4 - Cobblestones |
It
shows, and she’s showing it to whoever cares to look
a
runway model on a skating rink
and,
you know,
with
all the frocks and drapes
all
the casings and coverings
it
is the confidence
because
I bet she looks best in pajamas.
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