Face: heart-shaped; matter-of-fact, diffident

Eyes: bespectacled;  hiding, searching

Arms: thin;  hands nervous with low energy

Legs:  woolly socks to just below the knee;  

            bare calves and thighs to just below the hemline

Body:  white, warm, slightly moist

Panties:  hidden, flimsy;  lightly fragrant with perfume or scent from nature

Pinafore:  thrown on to cascade, lightly lying;

                  hitches up when she bends down to attend the books 

                  on the lowest shelves

 

 

Joe Malone is an emeritus professor of linguistics, a Brooklynite transplanted long ago to a leafy little town in Bergen County NJ with California poet wife Pam and their two little-guy sons who are now big-guy sons so that the pad rings with big and little grandkids running around. Joe has been channeling poetry longer than linguistics, often struck by a vision from the Gods–bam, allakkazzaam!–or mesmerized over a pint of Guinness.