Girls' Legs
I remember when the legs of girls
who swam in pale orange ponds
shadowed by gum trees
were with their curves and knees
the most precious things I had ever seen.
Their ankles were like the silk tassels
hanging out of the green husks
of new born corn.
But when adults spoke about them,
these legs changed to something ugly:
something ugly as a tattoo.
Duane Locke
Posted over on Eclectica
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