In the 60's, dungarees
(Not jeans, if you recall)
Were worn with big wide flaring bells
And floor-length they would fall.
My favorite pair were cut real low,
Hip-hugging and skin-tight.
A fringy belt of suede made sure
My clothes looked out-of-sight.
The bottoms grazed the ground and thus
Would rip and slightly shred.
I added some embroidery;
You'd notice that instead.
Today my jeans are from the Gap
And though they're kinda flared,
They're nothing like the ones I wore
When hippie fashions fared.
But I'm no longer who I was
Back then, so young and free,
When my embroidered bells announced
The me I hoped to be.
Copyright © ilene bauer | Year Posted 2015
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment