30in30, Day 29: "Local Color"

Local Color

There's a certain intimacy in the backsides of knees
No one notices, save for me and others like me
-- or am I like them? Who is who, and where, and when
Did it happen to you? And what was it, anyway?
Go ahead, friend, and have more coffee.
The bathroom here's a palace.

The sidewalks on Main
are made of brick;
fair warning.
You'll jar your kidneys
Up through your nose.

Some people have pretty ankles.
It's a thing you'll see come summer,
and everyone in sandals --
and there's something personal about
That, too. Like, thinking, I can almost see
Why long skirts are considered modest.
Care to share a cookie?
They'll carry it to us.

Oh, I meant to tell you about the library elevator --
hope you don't have any
Claustrophobic tendencies;
the things a moving cubbyhole.
Sometimes it makes this noise …
but never mind.
Just pull your feet back.
You'll be fine.

Have someone push you
Up on the dike sometime --
There's this slope down to the city beach;
it's fabulous.
Watch your stopping at the bottom, though.
Too far to the left
Means a face full of sand.

The bike shop will replace your tires,
if you take the new ones in.
You need air in the tubes,
there's a garage on the avenue
That'll fill 'em.
Just stick your head in the door and holler.

I think we see more violets than other people.
We are closer to the ground.
Today I counted 1,000 in 2 blocks,
and tulips, too. Yellow.

T.A.B. 4-29-13