SEAMS IN THEIR STOCKINGS July 7th, 2012
By
In the middle of the Twentieth Century there was a time,
We didn’t have much money – sometimes not even a dime,
I still see those old girls at the Town Center now and then,
They don’t recognize me with a big gray beard, again and again.
Many of those ladies who wore seams in their stocking are now old,
They nearly drove me mad back then, as they walked to and fro,
But somewhere along the way, I myself turned into an old man,
Was that in Toronto, Halifax, New York or Newfoundland?
But that was long ago before their hair turned white and cut short,
And I was much younger then and more inclined to cavort,
But I still miss those seams and wish they could come back once more,
While this old man could still watch from a distance just like before.
July 12th, 2012
