On the hook on the back of a door
A pair of faded jeans hang motionless
Soon they will move again
But for now
We are left to wonder

Are they to cover the legs of a farmer
soon to be covered in the dust of the barn?

Are they to protect the legs of a construction worker
destined to wear the scent of concrete and wood?

Will they dance and stand on stage with the musician
drenched in sweat and smelling of cigarettes and stale beer?

Will they go to sea with the lobsterman
and be wet with the sea and smell of the algae that covers the lobster trap?

No

They will soon be sitting in small chairs
and smell of crayon and pencil and several kinds of lined paper
and applesauce and desk cleaner
for I am an educator
and these pants are mine.