"Old teacher legs" was a search phrase that actually led someone in Italy to this here blog. As did "the lonely doll gets spank." (That was someone in Wisconsin.) A friend (jokingly, I think) confided that he is now weighing both of these phrases as the title of his erotic memoir, moved by their "Henry Miller meets Anaïs Nin meets David Lee Roth" feel.
This erotic association pervaded my thoughts and made it difficult to squeeze a poem out of the line, but it eventually came. (And for the record, my favorite search phrase that led to my blog is "how to use groovy in a sentence." Perfect, huh?)
Here's Lizzy's poem first.
Rainbow
The babbling brook joins the trickling riverand the clouds float by with harmonywhile wind rustles through the trees
Golden yellow dandelionsinvade the lush greenery of your favorite fieldwhile their musky scent swirls around you
The long branches of the Kentucky Coffee Treecreate dancing shadows under the hot sunReminding you of old teacher legs
Floating about you are thick billowy cloudsand as they release their refreshing moisture,your favorite field is brightened with rainbows
And here is mine.
Sally
i still see her
my old teacher, legs bare
gauze skirt and clogs
a braid down her back
at the blackboard, tan arm raised
diagramming sentences
in her loopy script
i know the parts of speech
i make a fancy e
i write
when she arrived on my street
on the neighbor's motorcycle
tan arms
around his teenage chest
i closed my eyes
and turned away