I owned my first pair at 27.
Before that, I wore polyester,
trying to be a perfect wife and mother of three
before I had even learned how to be Me.
Then I divorced, walking that fall day
through the leaves in the West End,
realizing my life was finally my own.
Bought my first jeans,
wandering Gastown in the '70's
in my buckskin jacket with fringe
to the strains of Elton John,
read Desiderata, took a lover,
had my first orgasm,
watched Jonathan Livingston Seagull and Siddhartha,
burst out of my cage,
life exploding in all directions.
I am still feeling the reverberations,
all these centuries later,
and remembering the look and the feel
of my first pair of jeans.
for Laurie's prompt at Poetry Jam : jeans in 20 lines or less.