says to me
you look just like my father.
you wear the same
things.
i look around the store
and she's right.
we're all wearing the same
shorts, the same
shirts,
the hat, the tennis shoes.
we are all of a certain age
exactly alike.
i cringe at conformity,
at being
one of many, time
to break this trance
and book a flight to
france.
1 comment:
This one takes me back a few years when I travelled to Paris with a friend and her two sons. Evan was 10 I think. Maybe 11. That perfect age boys are where he wanted to link arms and walk fast along the crowded streets. He was quick-witted. At Versaille he says, we have chandeliers this good or better at Pottery Barn. Later he says, watching the people walk by: You know, I have a lot of trouble over here telling the men from the women. So, yes, off you go, my friend. Take yourself overseas and get yourself some style. A nice colorful scarf to loop around your neck, a pair of skinny jeans and you will be ready for anything.
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