Where We Are. What we Wear.
Here we are, wearing tattered clothes that we can't bring ourselves to pass on.
My favorite is the faded moss green corduroy shirt with the elbows gone:
Who needs to lean anyhow?
I like the feel of the air passing through and the soft swish of
tattered threads on my skin,
and knowing that I will wear it in the garden
until the buttons no longer line up.
These black, leather sandals that stretch with my crooked toes
are meant for wandering.
I bought them in Spain for very little money
They were simple and comfortable
and the guy I bought them from seemed happy to make a sale,
not knowing I had paid just as much for fresh almonds
right around the corner.
I lost one blue sock behind the dryer for months,
disappointed that I hadn't kept better track because they
were thick and comfy and warm and a darker shade of blue than
anything in the winter sky, even when the clouds hovered just
above the horizon.
