Clothes
Entering into the steaming blacktop parking lot of the Family Thrift Center lovely Laura and I thought about all of the traffic we had just battled with shield, armor, and sword in order to be bathed in the wonderful smelling fabrics morphed into so much personality that always seems to be lacking from the designer, 'popular' clothes today.
They always look like that middle child who resorts to cutting themselves because they are trying to hard to gather up enough attention from their neglectful family to where they can gather it up and fill a small Butter dish to sleep with at night in order to soothe their troubled minds.
So many conversations came from the different styled clothing.
So many glances were passed from each of the hungry shoppers.
Hangers clanked.
Shoes squeaked.
Small children horsed.
To mix in with the welcoming atmosphere of the cold marbled floor that contrasted so beautiful with the scorching humidity blanketing the outside world.
And that black and white checkered jacket that was the mini-me of that beautiful floor I used to lay on all the time called to me.
I put him under my arm with a devious child's grin planning what kind of home he would have on my back.
All beautiful.
All needed.
And of course the lovely drive home--
Windows down tossing and molesting our hair.
The heat throwing Goosebumps along everything highway, nick and cranny of my body.
The cancer.
And the various music from that Laa Mix CD.
I played basketball today.
I woke up to the sounds of scuttering around the house.
And walked downstairs to find Laura cooking up a wonderful concoction of rice, seasoning, and tomato that agreed on everything with my taste buds.
Men's shoes make me glorious.
Just glorious.
Those two leather tassels on each foot bounce around by staying still.
And black.
What makes them the most lovely is how worn and loved they look.
Each crack in the leather could tell so many stories of where they walked and what they saw.
Wonderful.
Just a smidge of summer is left.
A summer that has been so lovely.
And of course..
Thank you.
And so it is.
They always look like that middle child who resorts to cutting themselves because they are trying to hard to gather up enough attention from their neglectful family to where they can gather it up and fill a small Butter dish to sleep with at night in order to soothe their troubled minds.
So many conversations came from the different styled clothing.
So many glances were passed from each of the hungry shoppers.
Hangers clanked.
Shoes squeaked.
Small children horsed.
To mix in with the welcoming atmosphere of the cold marbled floor that contrasted so beautiful with the scorching humidity blanketing the outside world.
And that black and white checkered jacket that was the mini-me of that beautiful floor I used to lay on all the time called to me.
I put him under my arm with a devious child's grin planning what kind of home he would have on my back.
All beautiful.
All needed.
And of course the lovely drive home--
Windows down tossing and molesting our hair.
The heat throwing Goosebumps along everything highway, nick and cranny of my body.
The cancer.
And the various music from that Laa Mix CD.
I played basketball today.
I woke up to the sounds of scuttering around the house.
And walked downstairs to find Laura cooking up a wonderful concoction of rice, seasoning, and tomato that agreed on everything with my taste buds.
Men's shoes make me glorious.
Just glorious.
Those two leather tassels on each foot bounce around by staying still.
And black.
What makes them the most lovely is how worn and loved they look.
Each crack in the leather could tell so many stories of where they walked and what they saw.
Wonderful.
Just a smidge of summer is left.
A summer that has been so lovely.
And of course..
Thank you.
And so it is.