Legs on show down an aisle of fridges and freezers and I am taken in by the red of your top. A swift sight of a face, nothing much, father nearby I presume, a brother too but minutes later gone. As the evening is reeled in, I see the same flash dash into the palace before I am certain itβs you once more. I didnβt see you or the shorts again but plenty of others were decked out in denim, all aliens beneath the neon lights.
Written: July and August 2012. Explanation: My first poem after returning from my holiday, this piece is about a girl I saw (twice in the same day) wearing denim shorts. She was not the only one wearing a pair. A rough draft of this poem was made in my notebook before being uploaded onto here, as well as being uploaded as a Facebook status update (in similar vein to several of my previous poems) in my short series of unrelated short poems.