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Ode to My Jeans

American Eagle is your name.
It's beautiful, brilliant, and bright.
When I wear you, I'm glowing with joy
because I'm in my favorite place.
No, you don't ever go to school,
have never, and never will,
but paired with my
muddy boots,
tan belt,
plaid shirt,
old hat,
and grease-smeared hands,
you carry with you, a thrill.
This place I wear you
isn't the mall, nor the movies, pool or park,
but the truck pulls, mud bogs, and quadding
seem to ignite a spark.
To some it may sound odd or strange,
but you're my favorite pair of jeans.
Holes in the legs bring memories
that I will forever keep.





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