Magnifying Glass

Next to my penknife the magnifying
Glass, whose handle stuck out of the
Back pocket of my Wranglers, was
My favorite provision for exploring
The woods behind our stone house
Neighborhood where I was a child.

I had ogled the knife for months with
Its grooved black wood handle, two
Blades, a nail file and a screwdriver in
The glass case with the lessor knives at
Monterey Hardware, until I finally saved
The eight dollars and fifty-fifty cents.

The knife cut the coiled rope, clipped to
My belt loop, I used to scale the dirt hill
Like a cowboy would, hand-over-hand,
When I was the freckly redheaded girl
Who arrived home tired and late in
Filthy blue jeans with ripped out knees.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s