Growing up poor. We bought our everyday clothes at fire sales—literally— rummaging through items stacked high on collapsible tables, choosing by discount, condition and fit. I well remember the aroma of smoke and the feeling of being tucked inside a warm roasted peanut shell.
Our fancy outfits we found on Tremont Avenue, a boulevard festooned year round with Christmas lights waiting for their time to shine. We purchased these frothy delights with crisp bills, passing our dreams softly from palm to palm. We wore our fancy dresses often, celebrating every thing.
Fancy dresses
navy jackets
pilgrims
proofed by fire
heaped on table tops
with grasshopper legs
we thread
the wooden buttons
sideways through loops
to keep the cold out
smelling of roasted peanuts
smoke still rising
fancy dresses
pure spun sugar
funneling late afternoon sun
through softshelled
dreams
We wear them
everywhere
to school plays
recitals
to the RKO
screening of Spartacus
the first day of spring
Written for OSI prompt, "fancy".
9 comments:
nice images...!
What energy! I love this poem.
yes, fancy dresses....
nice to have a place to wear a fancy dress to, once in a while. Lovely poem
I dreamed of having a really fancy "party dress" as a little girl. I don't remember ever having one...not quite sure where I would have worn it anyway. I sure loved dreaming over themin catalogues though. This is filled with very sweet images.
A good tske on the prompt..
Yes!
Beautifully done.
Loved it. Nice....
but happy days...
Aloha from Waikiki
Comfort Spiral
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Wow. I can relate to the circumstances and the wearing of the finery everywhere. And the smell. Incredible poem.
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