In Grandbury

Today sitting under a blazing sun
And wondering what is possessing the people
Who wear long pants when it is so hot outside
I remembered when
I was one of them
So afraid to show my legs
Worried that people might laugh

I wondered if Honey would remember
When she took me on the porch
That wrapped around the boat house
Forcing me to get a hair cut
Then turning the scissors on my blue jeans
Cutting the flair away
Leaving me to understand
The joy of shorts

This winter with temperatures in the lowly digits
Pants did nothing for me
This spring with winds kicking up the cool
Nope no pants

I hope she remembers.


  1. I like your poem out of everyday life. I must admit that I wear shorts at home only, if at all. But what is the end of your poem like: Do you keep on wearing short pants after the winter or did you stop it? #### Jürgen greets you from ‘Frankfurt, Germany

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